Alfred Jones and the Curse of Winter
by spicygenou
Summary: Alfred Williams-Jones and his older twin Matthew begin their adventure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry two years after the Battle of Hogwarts. There they meet students from all over the world and adapt to their new lives in the wizarding world. Hogwarts itself is also changing in the wake of Ministry reform, much to the distaste of some of the older pure-bloods.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello hello! Welcome to my attempt at Pottertalia! Just a heads up, the end game of this will be Rusame/Amerus, so if you're hoping for USUK in the end, it won't happen! Just letting you know straight up so you don't waste your time reading and then give me a mean review! Alright, allons-y! Also, set in 2000. Trying to stick to HP canon, but will have to take some liberties and make assumptions.**

 **^J^**

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The shops in Diagon Alley were bustling with giddy students and their parents on a warm August day. Most guardians were familiar with the road from their own years at Hogwarts, but there was the occasional muggle parent (or pair of parents) who was overwhelmed by all the magic.

Among the masses were two, young boys. They were twins, and both ogled each shop with wide eyes. During the war against Lord Voldemort, their parents had worked alongside the likes of Harry Potter and the Golden Trio, though they had sent their sons to live with muggle relatives in the United States for safety when Voldemort began his second rise to power. They had lost their mother then to Death Eaters, while their father had lost himself; he was now a permanent patient at St. Mungo's, as the man who'd killed his wife succeeded in torturing the man to the point of insanity.

The twins had been back in England since the end of the war two years prior. They shared their old family flat in London, conveniently close to the hospital. Their parents had both been wealthy and left them a healthy living as well as the elegant property, and their parents' friends were wont to spoil the boys with gifts and treats in addition.

Their mother had been pure-blooded, while their father was a very talented muggle-born, so it was no surprise that both showed signs of magic and received Hogwarts letters of acceptance only days after their eleventh birthday on the first of July.

"I can't see why I can't bring an eagle to school…" the younger twin, a headstrong boy named Alfred Williams-Jones, whined. His American accent was too ingrained in him that even two years in London hadn't changed it.

"I agree. The animal choices are limited. It must be for convenience sake. Owls and cats aren't too difficult to care for by the hundreds even, and toads and rats are left up to the individual. But, the rookery probably wouldn't be good for an eagle. And there's no way I could convince them that I need a bear…" the elder brother, Matthew, responded. His voice was quiet, but he was more than capable of speaking when he was comfortable with the other, and he was most comfortable with his best friend and twin.

"That's a darn shame," Alfred's accent tended to take on a more southern drawl, and his expressions were polite in the way southern states prefer to boast. Though they both spent their childhood in Minnesota with their father's parents, hosting visits from their parents once a month—apparition was a wonderful trick for that—Matthew spent more time in Minnesota and occasionally even Canada playing hockey while Alfred traveled further south with his competitive basketball team. They were both sad to leave behind their friends and lives to return to England, but they cared more about visiting their father and being close to their future school. Still, they both had found competent leagues to compete in during their free time from school and friends.

"Is that Francis?" Matthew asked, gesturing by jerking his chin up and forward. Alfred turned toward the target, and indeed it was their friend with his parents. Alfred waved and called to him, and Francis was quickly before them.

"Bonjour, mes amis!"

"Dude, you're not even French!"

"Bonjour," Matthew replied. Many of his teammates spoke the language, so he was proficient enough. Alfred was much more adamant about speaking English exclusively, but he actually spoke fluent Spanish thanks to the influence of his best friend Juan.

"Don't remind me," the new boy, Francis, brought the back of his hand to his forehead, flipping his long, blond locks with his free hand. His mother had been best friends with the twins' mother long before going to Hogwarts, as they were both pure-blooded families with close political ties; the Bonnefoys and the Williamses were proud families full of great and noble wizards, the majority of which were sorted into Gryffindor. The Bonnefoys had been centered in France, but the matriarch had moved to an impressive castle in England half a century before, and her offspring followed soon after. Despite his citizenship, Francis still greatly revered French culture and language, as he'd grown up attending boarding school in Paris instead of London. For the past few months, he'd been in London with his family, acclimating himself knowing that his acceptance letter would soon arrive. Sure enough, it did only weeks after Matthew's and Alfred's. They trio had become close that summer, though usually they were also in the presence of—

"Oi, you three!" a fourth boy, his accent thick and unmistakable, called out.

They turned to him, and Alfred shot forward to hug the other. Arthur Kirkland did not take so kindly to the touch, he didn't think it proper of a gentleman. Another pureblooded family, the Kirklands were actually from Scotland, though Arthur's parents both worked for the Ministry and thus raised their son in London.

"Hey, Arthur!"

"Hello, Alfred. In case you've forgotten, you're a lot bigger than me, thanks to that fatty American food, so please stop hugging me before I am reduced to liquid."

"What?" Alfred thought a simple, "let me go", would've sufficed, but he relented anyway. He grinned. "How was your trip to Hong Kong?"

"Brilliant, of course. It's a shame we always have to wear stuffy robes for class, my mother bought me many new clothes."

"Thank goodness it was your mother and not you, since you have the fashion sense of a grandfather," Francis teased.

"Listen here, you git…" Arthur shifted from his gentlemanly persona into a regular youth, a reaction that was typical whenever he bickered with Francis. Matthew and Alfred were both convinced the two would be quite happy together in the future, and so they let them duke it out while they led the others to the next shop. They'd already purchased their books and cauldrons, and since they were both still unsure about what pet to get, they decided to get their wands at Ollivander's.

"I've already gotten mine, though it was made in France, not in this hell-hole. I guarantee yours won't be as beautiful as mine!" Francis withdrew an elegant wand, twelve inches and carved from red oak. "The core is Veela hair, something your second-rate wand man does not carry on this isolated island."

Arthur withdrew his own, rolling his eyes. "Please, red oak? That is so typical of you, Francis. Veela hair is just a fad, anyway." His own wand was eleven and a half inches and made of silver lime. "Unicorn hair, reliable. Unlike your temperamental thing, I'll actually be able to cast spells with some semblance of skill."

"Only because you need the advantage you black sheep!"

The twins again let the others bicker, ignoring Francis's comment that his "was larger" and entering the shop. They had to wait for another young wizard, a large blonde man (there sure were a lot of blonds in the Alley) who was with a much louder, albino man with a Slytherin scarf around his neck to depart.

Once Ollivander was free, the boys swarmed him. The old man had a policy of serving twins together, so he brought forward two wands. Both were failures, however, and they switched. Matthew was happy to find that his wand had selected him. He held a strong, 12.25 inch, unicorn tail-cored Applewood wand. It took a few more tries, but Alfred too found his wand, also 12.25 inches but made of acacia and with a dragon heartstring core.

Arthur was well-versed on the characteristics of the wands, and so on their walk to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, bombarded them with facts and figures. Inside the candy shop they'd found Francis's and Arthur's parents chatting. All four had been friends with the twins' parents when the Sorting Hat had united them in Gryffindor. It was expected that the four boys would follow in their footsteps.

After a relaxing dinner with their friends and their parents, Matthew and Alfred quickly made decisions on their pets, purchasing two white cats from the same litter.

The boys spent the night in the living room of the Williams-Jones flat while their parents settled into the extra rooms. In the morning, Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland had to head to work so said their emotional goodbyes, which were much too touchy for Arthur's liking.

Once at the station, Francis was next to say goodbye. Matthew and Alfred had parted happily with their father before their trip to Diagon Alley, and so without anyone there to send them off but their stand-in parents, they gave their trunks to the porter and claimed a compartment for their group. Before they knew it, the Hogwarts Express departed the station, sounding its whistle. Francis leaned out the window to wave to his parents, and soon they were out of view.

Alfred was bonding with his cat, who was just as rambunctious and outgoing as its owner. Matthew's was napping contentedly on his lap. Arthur and Francis had purchased each other's pets, Arthur gifting Francis a rather ugly toad and Francis him a scrawny rat. They had of course been gag gifts, something to do with rude nicknames they had for the other, so both were surprised that the other actually kept the ugly things.

When the trolley lady stopped by their compartment, Alfred bought a ridiculous amount of snacks, since he was quite hungry. His friends were more than used to his odd appetite, but they weren't complaining as they were free to divulge their own tastes with the many treats. They'd left the door open, hoping to catch sight of friends—Francis and Arthur had a few relatives already at Hogwarts as well as other family friends.

Alfred's unnamed cat was restless and leapt from his lap when a particularly large, fluffy animal trotted by.

"No, Hamburglar, get back here!" he had been testing out various names for the past two hours.

"That's a no go, for sure," Arthur said, thumbing through a novel and sipping at his tea.

"Much worse than the others," Francis, surprisingly, agreed.

"And I thought Americat was bad…" Matthew said while petting his much less curious cat.

Of course, Alfred was out of earshot, chasing after his cat who had managed to spook the larger black cat into a run. They darted down the corridor, only stopping when the larger cat was backed into a corner. "Hamburglar" approached slowly, sniffing at the other who looked uncomfortable with the arrangement. Despite the other's hissing, he started licking at his fur affectionately.

"Can't you control your animal?" a high-pitched voice asked. Alfred turned from his happy cat to the stranger. He had to glance up a bit, as he was very tall. Alfred guessed he was a third year or older. The taller boy grabbed his cat, brushing aside the white cat's half-hearted swat. He comforted his pet in Russian, a language Alfred recognized from some of his favorite movies as the language of bad guys.

"Sorry about that. He's fixed, but still quite the alpha male, it seems," he opened his arm and the cat leapt up. The other cat looked quite ruffled, but he glanced at Hamburglar and wagged his tail. Scooching his cat into one arm, Alfred held out his free hand. "I'm Alfred Jones, by the way. First year."

The other did the same, though his cat was a bit too large for it to be comfortable. "Ivan Braginsky. Also first year."

"Really? Dude, you're huge!"

Ivan raised a brow. "You're blunt. And American."

"Yup! And you're Russian! Hey, let's be friends!"

"Why?"

"Well, my cat likes yours, so they should have playdates! Maybe they can get married. No babies, though, since mine's fixed, but we could adopt a litter of hamsters as surrogate kittens…"

"My Luka is a boy."

"You got a problem with gays, commie?"

"Nyet, not at all."

"Good." Alfred smiled, eyeing the other fully now. He was quite handsome, with his strange silver hair and purple eyes. So unique compared to Alfred's own self-described "boring" blond hair and blue eyes. He had already changed into his black robes though customized them with a long, pink scarf. "You're really cute!"

Ivan blushed. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm a man of action! Hey, where are you sitting? Can I join you? Tell me all about yourself! Do you have any friends yet?"

"My older sister is here, but she is sitting with the other prefects. Very well, you may join me for a bit. I have my own compartment this way," he led Alfred to his room. He explained that his older sister, Katyusha, was a fifth year prefect of Hufflepuff and had spent the first half of the trip with him, introducing him to her own group of friends, but left to sit with the prefects, which is when his cat had escaped. They sat down across from each other, allowing Hamburglar to snuggle next to Luka, though Alfred scolded him whenever he got too frisky.

"Hufflepuff, huh? That's a good one. I'm going Gryffindor, myself. My parents were in it, same with all my friends' parents. Plus, you know, it's the house for heroes."

"I do not care where I end up, the Hat will give you what suits you best, da? My family all attended a school in Russia that specialized in Dark Arts, but it closed after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. My father managed to reopen it recently."

"Dark arts? Wait, the commies had wizards too?"

"Of course we do. Wait, but we are not communist anymore… And I did not know Hogwarts accepted Americans," Ivan confessed.

"Well, my big bro and I were born in England, but we became naturalized U.S. citizens when we moved there to live with our grandparents. Parents were off being heroic and fighting Voldemort, so they figured we'd be safer on the freer side of the pond."

Ivan nodded. Most people knew about the Braginskys, for in most other Soviet Union countries, they were something of nightmare-fodder. During her first year, many were mistrustful of Katyusha's family name, but due to her kind heart she quickly beat back any fears and made plenty of friends. Ivan was kind, but many found him overbearing or creepy. His own friends back home had said as much, so he didn't think he'd be as successful with making friends as his sister had been. He'd lucked out that the bubbly American wasn't well-read enough to know about his family line, it seemed, and so he didn't want to admit that his parents and many family members had been Death Eaters, spreading Voldemort's evil will in the east. They hadn't been sent to Azkaban like the others, as they had backed out of the fight when a powerful Seer among them had predicted Voldemort's defeat years before the battle. Plus, the Ministry didn't want to make an enemy of the Russian's magical government so soon after the Cold War, so they didn't call for any punishment of the foreigners.

Alfred kept talking. "My parents always said that Gryffindor was the best house, but that the rest were all good, too. Well, all but Slytherin, of course."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?"

"Dude, that's where all the Death Eaters come from! It's the evilest! Didn't you read _Hogwarts, a History?_ "

Ivan shook his head, frowning. "I honestly did not expect to come here. I thought to be homeschooled until receiving my letter, or at least to go to Durmstrang since they place greater focus on the Dark Arts. It's what my father wanted for me, even after Katyusha chose Hogwarts."

"How'd this all work out, then?" he made a vague gesture toward the walls of the train.

"My mother convinced him it would be good for me. I'm not very interested in Dark Arts, and she knew Hogwarts offered the most comprehensive curriculum, even if it's not the best education in the world. She saw how happy Katyusha was, too, and wanted that for me."

Alfred smiled. Ivan seemed so happy when speaking of his mother, and he liked his new friend. "Well, I hope you end up in Gryffindor. You seem like a nice guy, so I don't see why you wouldn't. Although, you could be Ravenclaw since you're a closeted nerd. Maybe even Hufflepuff, you seem kinda shy. And I think that's where all the cuties go, anyway."

Ivan giggled, then froze at the embarrassing sound.

"Well butter me and call me a biscuit, you'll give me a cavity with how sweet you're looking." He coughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyway, are you gonna join any clubs? Or play Quidditch?"

"I do not know what clubs they have. I doubt I will play Quidditch, though. I've tried flying and am not very good at it."

"That's too bad, I love flying! I think I'll try Quidditch, now that first years are allowed to play I figured, why not? But, I've played basketball all my life. It's a muggle sport. Are you very familiar with muggles? Some of my friends with big wizard families have no idea about even the most popular things, it's crazy!"

"I am probably just as ignorant as they."

"Well don't worry, I'll help with your education, alright?" He pulled out a small, rectangle. "We can start with some classic jams. American music is fantastic, of course, but no one can deny a love of The Beatles. Have you ever heard 'Back in the USSR'?" He pressed a button, and the song started. Ivan quite liked the beat, but he didn't really get the meaning of the words.

After an hour or so of chatting, Alfred excused himself, saying that his friends were probably very worried about him. He asked if Ivan was interested in meeting them, but he shook his head. Based on what he'd heard of them from Alfred, he figured they'd know all about who he was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to face that before even setting foot on Hogwarts grounds.

"I like to dance, actually," Ivan said to Alfred's back.

"Pardon?" he turned around, an odd cowlick twitching with the sudden movement.

"You mentioned earlier that Hogwarts has created clubs for more muggle-created activities." Alfred seemed to remember the earlier conversation. "I've always been a dancer, ballet specifically. Do they have a club for that?"

"Jesus Christ, if you get any more adorable, I may just die. I think they do have a dance club. They even do performances. They've been around forever, too, so it won't be a new one with no members like the basketball club. You should totally join."

"Da, perhaps I will."

"Are you hungry?" Alfred asked out of the blue.

Ivan shrugged. He had not brought any money on the train. While his family was old and noble and had been favored by the Dark Lord, they were far from rich. Even the muggles of his clan were poor after the war. He of course didn't want to tell this to Alfred, though he had assumed the other wasn't too wealthy either. They hadn't talked in depth about their families, but Alfred just seemed so down-to-earth compared to his pureblooded friends Francis and Arthur and especially compared to Ivan's own family that he didn't come across as being rich.

A large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans landed on his lap. He blinked at the treat, then stared at the thrower.

"Thank you."

"No problem. I have more food in my car if you're hungry for something with, like, substance."

"No, this is perfect, thanks again." Ivan smiled. Alfred's heart sped up, and with a nod, he turned away. Red in the face, he stomped toward his friends, his cat asleep in his arms.

He was rather confused. Sure, objectively speaking, Ivan was attractive. But, Alfred wasn't into guys, as far as he knew. He was still a kid, after all, and only recently found himself remotely attracted to girls in his class. He hadn't ever kissed a girl; he'd been so consumed with his basketball that outside of school and his sport, he had little time for socializing.

He knew about flirting, of course. Francis was a fan of hitting on pretty girls whenever they went into town, and the Frenchman had even dated a bit, though those were still supervised by his parents. Alfred heard stories but had never himself partaken in romantic endeavors. When he'd called Ivan cute, it wasn't flirtatious, he reasoned. It was just a fact. There was nothing wrong with thinking your guy friends were cute, was there? Though, thinking back, he'd not once even seen Francis or Arthur or Juan or any of his teammates in that way, even if he knew girls thought them cute.

He shook his head. He knew he was overthinking everything. Taking a deep breath, he entered his compartment, startling his friends with a loud entrance.

"We're back, y'all! I know you must've been so worried about lil' old me, but I'm fit as a fiddle!"

Matthew yawned, having been rudely awoken from a nap. "Shut the hell up, idiot."

"Sacre bleu, you're so loud," Francis whispered, not wishing to awake the brit who was resting on his shoulder. He seemed very pleased with the arrangement.

"What took you so long?"

"My cat's fallen in love with another dude cat, so I stayed and chatted with the owner for a bit. He was nice."

"What's his name?" Francis asked.

"Luka, sweet little furball, he—"

"Not that cat, you dummy, the student!"

"Ivan Braginsky. He's a first year."

He paled. "Braginsky? Oh my, the son is at Hogwarts now? Alfred, you should stay away from him. He's no good at all."

"What are you saying?"

"Didn't you know? His family is a very prominent pureblooded clan from Russia. They've a long history of being hired killers, and when Voldemort first rose to power, they were all on board with him. They brought terror and death all throughout their own country as well as many others. Not many came very far west, but there are still many stories coming out about their misdeeds. Since Voldemort's defeat they've been under the radar, though I've heard they're still very into the Dark Arts over there, and the Braginskys are leading the revival of some less humane methods of bloodline conservation."

"He did mention that his father wanted him to study Dark Arts, but he's not into that at all. He wants to be like…. A magic vet or something. Or a professor. He's very kind."

Arthur yawned while sitting up, the noise finally rousing him. Francis frowned. "What are you all droning on about now?"

"Alfred's gone and made friends with a Braginsky."

He bristled at the name. "Braginsky? Bloody hell, Alfred, we in my house hate those damn commies. Not only are they Russian," he spat the word, "but they're just plain evil. I'm assuming Francis gave you the synopsis?"

"Oui, but of course, mon cher."

Arthur nodded. "You should really stay away from him, Al. His whole family is bonkers. I heard that his little sister 'accidentally' killed an entire family when a boy teased her in class. Of course, they'd never get punished. They're the biggest magic family in the rotten country. Did you know that any muggles born to them are forbidden from even speaking? They're practically treated like slaves."

"That's awful!" Matthew frowned.

"Ivan's really not like that, I swear! You guys will meet him, I'm sure. You shouldn't judge him because of who his family is."

"You can at least get a hint of his character from it. With how cruel his father and sister are, it'd be an impressive feat if he proves to be anything more than a powerful Dark Magic abuser," Arthur said while stretching. "The likelihood of that is quite low, as children tend to take after their parents more than they'd like to admit."

Alfred glared. "That explains why you're such an asshole then."

"Why you… are you insulting my parents?"

"I'm trying to insult you mainly, but by extension, yes, your parents are just as bad. Arthur, it's the twenty-first century, who gives a shit about titles and names?"

"You grew up away from the politics of the magic world, Alfred, you wouldn't understand. For us it's still important."

"Well that's just stupid. I'd much rather be how I am than so dismissive of anyone who can't trace their lineage back six generations."

"Six generations? Well that's laughable… my family—"

"That's not the point!"

"Whatever, Al. Don't think you're anything special just because you grew up in the States like some lowly squib. When we arrive at Hogwarts, you'd better take care to choose your friends wisely, else nasty rumors of your bumpkin ways may spread."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Of course not, that would be improper. Gentlemen don't make threats."

"Lord, you are testing my patience!"

"Guys, let's just calm down…" Matthew finally spoke.

"Oui, Mathieu is right. This is getting out of hand. We'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Arthur was enjoying a blueberry scone which had been purchased by Alfred. Alfred yanked it out of the other's hand. "Oi, the bloody hell was that for?"

"Shut up. Why would you want this anyway, as tainted as it is with my country bumpkin money?"

Arthur crossed his arms. "You're quite right, I suppose. Thank you for confiscating it. It was rather tasteless anyway."

Francis rolled his eyes. "You say that as if any English food has taste…"

"Listen here you frog!" The fight shifted back to the usual pair, and Alfred was free from Arthur's insults. He plopped down next to his twin, muttering under his breath and glaring at nothing in particular. How dare Arthur say those things! If he didn't grow out of his dated, pureblood ways, Alfred would have no interest in spending time with him for the next seven years. He was happy that he'd grown up in the U.S. Even if he hadn't, his mother was far from the typical pureblooded witch, as she was rather eccentric. No one in her family had approved of her marriage to their father, and yet she chose him over her bloodline. Alfred knew that he'd never have been taught that they were superior to halfbloods or muggles. He'd never met magical children before that summer, and he had no problems at all with muggles.

He also had no problems with people who may have come from less-than-friendly families. As far as he was concerned, the war was over, the good guys had won. The surviving Death Eaters had all been dealt their punishments, so what did it matter? Ivan himself said he cared more about Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, anyway. Alfred wasn't a fan of those who rested on their laurels, or on their family names like Arthur and even occasionally Francis tended to do. In fact, more often than not he'd use his father's last name instead of Williams as he knew he wouldn't be recognized with it. Since names meant so little to him, it didn't make a different if Ivan's belonged to some scary Russian family; hell, he could be Ivan Riddle and Alfred would still give him a chance. He nodded to himself. _This is why I'll be perfect in Gryffindor. I'm just so nice!_

Still, despite his niceness, he spent the short boat ride plotting how to get back at Arthur. At first he thought simply: some disease-riddled candies or mini fireworks from the Joke Shop would do quite nicely. But soon his ideas turned more sinister. Before he could stop the train of thought, he had formed plans of sabotage years in advance. He was only broken from his plots of embarrassing Arthur at graduation when his brother pushed him slightly, urging him to get off the boat.

He remained silent, content to stay in his head for once. It was calming, and he found himself in a surreal mental state. It was akin to when he was playing basketball, when he was so singularly focused on sinking a shot or guarding a skilled point guard that nothing else even mattered. He was so absorbed that he barely even noticed the impressive architectural feat that was Hogwarts castle until he was finally in the Great Hall.

The first years all huddled together near the front, directly in front of the professors. Headmistress McGonagall gave her address, her voice radiating through the room. She was slightly upstaged by the Hat's ditty with its clever verse and jaunty tune. It was finally time for the sorting ceremony, and Alfred broke free of his temporary reverie. There were about 100 students to go through, and Alfred only tuned in when he recognized his friends' names. He smiled at Ivan, one of the first to be sorted, when the Hat immediately cried, "Hufflepuff!" Arthur, who had settled next to Alfred, muttered a choice curse word under his breath, and Alfred stomped on his foot.

Francis was sorted into Gryffindor, no surprise, as was Arthur, though the Hat took longer to decide his fate.

"Alfred Williams-Jones!"

He stepped forward, steadying his breath. His brother let go of his hand with a reassuring squeeze. In only a few steps, Alfred was before the stool. He met the Headmistress's hand halfway, politely grabbing the Hat from her and setting it on his head while he turned to face the hall and sat. Francis and Matthew directed smiles his way, and even Arthur gave a thumbs up. Ivan was also focused on his new friend.

 _"Ah, Alfred, the son of Francine Williams and Franklin Jones. Fantastic pair, those two. Both Gryffindor."_

 _"Yes, that's right."_

 _"I suppose you think you belong in Gryffindor too, then?"_

 _"Well, I was always taught it was the best house. The others are fine too, all but Slytherin."_

The hat chuckled. _"You remind me of another great wizard. Mr. Potter would've been a great member of Slytherin, you know, but he chose Gryffindor."_

 _"Chose it? Wasn't it because he was brave?"_

 _"That's only a part of it. See, I know what's in your head and heart. You've always wanted to follow in your father's footsteps, to wear red and gold. But your heart beats green and silver. Slytherin is a perfect fit for you. Those in it are not evil, as you seem to think. Rather, they are cunning. They get whatever they want as they are ambitious and resourceful. You're no Gryffindor, Alfred. But, if you really want it…"_

 _"I'm… a Slytherin? But, I'm a hero."_

 _"Great people have come from all the houses as well as evil people. This is a chance for you to truly grow into who you're meant to be. Gryffindor will stifle you, your friend Arthur will try to force you in one direction as well. But, you know that you don't agree with him. Be free to decide things on your own. Slytherin will offer you the right resources."_

 _"And can I actually get back at that twit?"_

 _"That you may, though I shan't encourage violence."_

Alfred smirked. _"That's a bit below me, I think."_

 _"I would agree. Yes, I have a good feeling about you."_ The voice faded from Alfred's head, and it boomed through the Great Hall.

"Slytherin!"

* * *

 **a/n: sigh, i'm just so obsessed with rusame. i'm pretending that i don't already have two other hetalia stories in progress, don't mind me. I love slytherin America, i think it's more apt. i can see him in gryffindor, but only in the way that harry was placed, with him begging. Still he's a bit too conniving in my honest opinion. and Ivan as a slytherin makes no sense to me, at least the way canon Russia is presented. he's so nice!**

 **As for Alfred's wand, check out pottermore for descriptions of woods/cores (if you care)! His wand is my own, and I'm also a slytherin. *hiss hiss* (that's not a thing they do i don't think)**


	2. Chapter 2

The green- and silver-clad students cheered for their new addition. Most knew of the Williams clan, and figured Alfred would make a great addition. Francis and Arthur stared, openmouthed at their friend. Matthew smiled, knowing all along where Alfred really belonged. Sure, Alfred was for the most part kind and charming, but there was more behind that charm. Alfred was a natural wooer, and he could get anyone on his side. He was far from manipulative in a mean way, but he was capable of getting what he wanted out of relationships.

In the end, Matthew too was placed in Gryffindor, and the twins waved to each other from across the hall. The feast began, and Alfred met two fellow first years, an angry young Italian named Lovino Vargas—his twin had been placed in Hufflepuff—and a quiet, Icelandic boy, Emil Bondevik, who sat next to his brother Lukas, a second year.

Alfred was loud and outgoing, and some of his fellow housemates were surprised with the choice of house. He didn't seem to have anything going for him beyond a kind and gullible spirit, and he seemed easy to walk all over, which is something no true Slytherin would be caught dead doing. It wasn't until later in the evening when he told them of his plans to prank his friend Arthur that they smirked along with him, recognizing his potential as a great member.

He fell in love with the common room, even though the walk to the dungeon was a bit spooky—Alfred thought himself brave, but he was easy to scare, especially when the ghosts poked their heads through the walls to check out the new students.

He stayed up late plotting with Emil and Lukas. Even Lovino joined in, though he also wanted to play a prank on some kid named Ludwig Beilschmidt who had been flirting with his twin, Feliciano. Well, by his story it sounded more like Feliciano had flirted with him and the "potato bastard" hadn't flirted back, which upset Feli and thus his big brother Lovino. At the same time, Lovino didn't want Ludwig to even look at Feli with his "stupid potato eyes"; it was quite confusing to follow his logic, though his brilliant curses helped guide the listeners.

"What is this? You baby snakes wish to prank mein bruder?" The albino from the wand shop was behind them, brow raised.

"Er, yes?" Alfred was unsure how to answer. "Want to help?"

He cackled. "I thought you'd never ask! Luddy is much too uptight, this'll loosen him up!"

"Gil, is this really the best idea?" A tan boy asked while approaching his friend. He surveyed the underclassmen, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Lovino. "Actually, it is a perfect idea! Hello, young ones. My name is Antonio Fernández Carriedo!"

"And I'm the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt! Me and Antonio are the current prank kings of Hogwarts, so we will train our young underlings. So, who's on the hit list for week one of classes?"

Alfred held up his hand, counting on his fingers. "Well, Arthur Kirkland is a priority. He's acting real snobby lately, and I need to teach him a lesson. Plus, he's a goody-goody Gryffindor. My twin Matthew is off limits. If anyone messes with him they'll be on the list too. Lukas mentioned his friend Mathias Køhler, another Gryffindor but a second year. There's your brother in Ravenclaw… Although, we're all obvious rivals with these people, perhaps we should throw in a few randos to get the scent off our trail!"

"Wait, Jones, didn't you say you and Kirkland just got in a fight a few hours ago? How can you say you're rivals already?"

"We're rivals, Emil!"

"Alright, alright."

"Yeah, that's a good idea, Jones." Gilbert sat next to him, checking out the other's meticulous notes. "Heh, this is classic. A good opening move for a prank war. Let's see, let's throw in Elizaveta and her bastard boyfriend. What do you say, Toni?"

The man had squished himself next to Lovino. "What's your name, cutie? Would you like to be my personal underling?"

"Get the hell off me you asshat!"

"Thanks, Toni. Okay, so, we need randos… How about that Braginsky kid? I figured he'd be one of us, but he's a wimpy Hufflepuff," Gilbert continued.

"That's a bad idea, he's still scary," Lukas said.

"I agree. Besides, he's super nice! Let's not be mean to him," Alfred defended.

"Berwald Oxenstierna. He's a second year Ravenclaw." Lukas added. "He and Matthias are rivals so if we prank them together they'll be confused."

"You sure they won't think it's you?" Alfred smiled.

"No."

"Arthur probably won't think I've got it in me, either."

"Liz and Roddy will definitely know it's me! Honestly, Ludwig will probably think it's me… Looks like all evidence will lead back to our house, which isn't good!"

"Scapegoat?" Alfred suggested.

"How about Sadik! His family hates that freshman's, Heracles' or whatever, and I already saw them fighting during dinner! If we pranked the Ravenclaw we could pin it on him."

"Haha!" Alfred's laugh was particularly obnoxious, but welcome in the cold room. "That's perfect! Now, all that's left is to coordinate when we strike. First year Slytherins share classes with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, so we can take care of them during class. Or, should we go big and unleash it all in the Great Hall?"

The group pondered it for a bit, but all at once said, "Great Hall." They laughed, then stayed up late elaborating the scheme.

The next day, Alfred was surprisingly well-rested, even though he'd gotten less than three hours of sleep. His new friends were so fun to talk to. Even though most were purebloods, once they talked about their numerous schemes, be they pranks or career plans, they were so focused on the future that they didn't boast about their pasts. He loved the conversations, and found himself growing more annoyed with how obtuse Arthur was. Still, he missed his brother and Francis, and hoped things were going well for them in Gryffindor tower.

He saw them during his first class, Charms. Arthur attempted to sit next to Alfred, but the seat had already been claimed by Emil. Alfred shrugged, sharing an apologetic smile. Francis and Matthew were already together, so Arthur had to sit next to Lovino.

Next was History with the Hufflepuffs. As soon as he saw Ivan, Alfred grabbed his arm, making sure they could sit together.

"Ivan! How are you, dude?"

"I am well. My housemates and I enjoyed some lovely treats last night and some tea before bed. I made friends with Toris and Feliks and Feliciano, but I'm not sure if they like me."

"That's sick! I was up all night planning pranks! Is anyone giving you a hard time? I can take care of that!"

"Nyet, I am fine, thank you. Why are you pranking people?"

"Well, Arthur's the main target. He was so rude on the train! I told my friends about you and he was being so shallow! I'd very much like to wipe his haughty grin off his face."

"Ah, so you've embraced your house stereotypes? I thought you wanted to be a hero, not a bully?"

"Well, it's all harmless fun. I'd be pranking no matter what house I was in! It's who I am. It's not like I'm gonna, like, traumatize him. Just some mild annoyances."

"I see. All because he insulted me?" Ivan smiled at the thought.

"Yeah, he was going on about how awful your family was. What a dick."

Ivan's pink scarf had been replaced with a yellow and blue one, which his chin nestled deeper into. "He was not being dishonest. I was surprised you hadn't heard my name when we met. And now you know the truth, but you're still talking to me. Why's that?"

"Well, I still want to be friends, of course! It'd be hypocritical of me to complain about Arthur caring too much about bloodlines if I did the same! Besides, it's not like you followed Voldemort, unless you were a very impressive seven-year-old warrior?"

Ivan shook his head.

"Perfect!"

Ivan chuckled. Alfred seemed in high spirits, perhaps because of his upcoming prank, and he didn't mind the other chatting his ear off. His housemates had also been nice, though they were much meeker and almost afraid to talk to him. Feliks and the second year Tino were less timid, but the second year had snuck out to visit his boyfriend and Feliks was more interested in making Toris uncomfortable to talk to Ivan. Still, he did enjoy his tea by the fireplace, and even had time to finish knitting some mittens. They were a bit small for him, though. He grabbed Alfred's hand.

The boy blushed. "What are you doing?"

"Do you need any mittens? I knitted a pair and you have the right size hands."

"Free clothes? I'll take you up on that! My brother did always say I can squeeze a quarter so tight the eagle screams, though I'd never hurt such a graceful creature."

"What's a quarter?"

"It's an expression, he just thinks I'm cheap. You knit?"

"Da."

"You are too precious for this world, Ivan. Tell me, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

"Ah, this is a western pickup line. The appropriate response is no, but it was painful when I crawled up from hell."

Alfred laughed. "Ha! Brilliant! Hey, what are you doing for supper?"

"Eating, I presume."

"Me too! Want to eat together? I know the Slytherin guys won't be afraid of you. Hell, half their families were Death Eaters, too! You'd be more than welcome to join us and witness our plans unfold."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

After class, the Slytherins had a break while the Hufflepuffs went to Charms with the Ravenclaws. Before supper, Alfred was subjected to Transfiguration lessons where he sat with his brother.

"Hey man, how's everything?" he asked.

"Good. The rooms are very nice. Our upperclassmen are all very welcoming. Although, a third year, Elizabeta Héderváry, she's very anti-Slytherin. When I told her you were in there, she vowed to save you from 'Gilbert's clutches', or something. I guess they fight a lot."

"So I've heard. Gilbert's awesome, though! And harmless, really. He likes her, although I honestly can't tell if he likes her or her boyfriend better."

"Yeah. There's also Mathias. He's in love with the second year Lukas. Wouldn't shut up about him. He reminds me of you, though less evil." Matthew smiled.

"Would you like to be my henchman? You could… hench and stuff."

"That doesn't even sound remotely enjoyable."

"You don't really think I'm evil, do you?"

"Of course not. I've known you long enough. I do agree with the choice, though, don't you? You wouldn't have liked Gryffindor. I already know Arthur's rubbing you the wrong way. Even Francis is starting to agree with him that you were being silly during the fight. You're nice and all, but in a different way."

"That's only 'cause Francis is in love with the idiot! Hmph," he pouted. "I know you're the eternal pacifist, so I won't ask your opinion. Also, to answer your question: I was surprised, but I love the Slytherin guys. They're not evil at all, who knew?" he laughed. "Though the thought of Lukas and Lovino as Death Eaters sassing Voldemort is fun to entertain."

The boys were silenced by the professor, and the lesson began. Right after, the students were excused for dinner, and most sat with their houses. Alfred waved Ivan over, and he caught Arthur staring at him with a confused expression.

"Hey everyone," Alfred turned to his new friends. "This is Ivan Braginsky, fellow first year. Be nice to him or I'll kick your ass."

They all greeted him, unintimidated by the name. Hell, the Beilschmidts were simply an off branch from the Malfoys, and the Bondeviks also served the Dark Lord. The Vargases weren't the bad guys in the magic world, but in the muggle side of society, their Mafia ties ran deep. Toni's ancestors had started the magical inquisition, where muggles were slaughtered under the guise of religious intolerance. Despite all the stories, Alfred wasn't afraid of his friends. The magic world was small, and most people were related. It was more likely than not that one of his new friends shared blood with the man who'd killed his mother. He wasn't ignorant to this fact, and yet it made no difference in his eyes.

About halfway through the meal, when every house was present, Gilbert excused himself, setting their plan in motion. It was tough work, planting the enchanted treats where all the targets would grab them, but he managed thanks to the unplanned distraction that a loudly yelling Sadik and Heracles provided.

He returned. "The deed is done," he said solemnly.

The first to fall prey was the stoic Ravenclaw, Berwald. Before everyone's eyes, a puff of glitter shrouded him from sight. When it cleared, his blonde hair was a vivid pink, and two dainty wings had sprouted from his back. The Slytherins guarded their laughs, but Lukas couldn't hold back a snicker.

Thankfully Mathias busted up laughing, attracting attention as well as suspicion. He was pointing and laughing at his distant cousin, but then another pop sounded. This time, a fellow Slytherin was struck, a second year named Nash. He glared at the room—though he almost always glared—and none dared laugh. Toni shared a low five with his team under that table. Nash had been a late addition to the list; they figured it'd be best to target at least one Slytherin, and Toni wasn't a fan of the other.

By then the professors were getting up to check on the victims who were perfectly fine other than looking silly. Berwald was already marching toward Mathias to get his revenge, but then, after biting into a cheese Danish, the Dane too transformed. Berwald stopped, though he did enjoy the dumbstruck look on his rival's face.

Another pop, another victim, this one a quiet Ravenclaw named Kiku. Heracles had offered him a bite of his food, and he fell to the spell. Heracles immediately figured Sadik had caused it in a failed effort to embarrass himself, so he again started yelling at the older Gryffindor.

Soon Ludwig, Arthur, and Roderich were also pink of hair, and everyone was laughing. Those responsible saw it as the perfect chance to join in. Elizabeta had managed to avoid eating her cursed pastry, but Francis eyed the crepe and indulged himself. He was not too dissatisfied with the look, so confident was he in his beauty.

The Great Hall was a mess of students accusing others for their misdeeds. Ludwig immediately marched over to his older brother, who was too busy laughing to answer him. Roderich too figured Gilbert was responsible, and his girlfriend followed soon after.

Ivan chuckled on seeing his friend bent over the table with laughter.

"My word, this worked out perfectly! Look, Sadik is yelling at a sleeping Heracles! Bless his heart, what's he thinking? And Arthur, did you see his face—oh shit! Why's he coming over here?"

"Braginsky!" the brit yelled over the cries of the room.

"Da? I like your hair, Mr. Kirkland. It is pretty."

"Haha! Arthur you look like a regular fairy! Even the eyebrows!" Alfred wiped tears from his eyes.

"I know this was you, Braginsky!"

"Ah, it wasn't me. I don't even know you beyond what Alfred's told me."

"Alfred, I know you're mad at me right now but you shouldn't sick your dog on me."

"Hey! Shut the hell up, dude! Ivan didn't do this!"

"And what, you did?"

"I didn't say that! Why are you so against him?"

"Alfred, you shouldn't hang out with him. He's not even a nice person. His sister's not the only one who's killed. And half his house is already terrified of him! He doesn't understand healthy friendships. He'll smother you."

"Shut up, as if you know anything about that either. All you do is try to control me, tell me how to be a proper noble wizard and whatnot. I don't care about that stuff!"

"You have to, Alfred. You are a Williams, it's in your blood to care about it!"

"Arthur, you should go." Tonio had moved to Alfred's side. "Alfred doesn't want to speak with you."

"He can speak for himself," Arthur spat.

"Wow, never thought I'd hear you say that. But, Toni's right. Leave, Arthur. If you can't accept my friendship with Ivan, then I don't want to be your friend."

"What? But… our families."

"Yeah, I know our families are friends. But I am not my family, I'm just me. Alfred Jones does whatever he wants to, okay, and no one can stand in my way."

"No wonder you're a filthy Slytherin. You're just selfish."

"Get back to your table, Arthur."

The pink-haired man turned, intimidated by the equally chilling glares of Toni and Alfred. The room had grown silent, and everyone heard the exchange.

Emil whistled. "Now _that's_ how you establish a rivalry. Good show, Alfred."

"Shut up," Alfred grinned. He whispered to his friends, though conversations were starting back up so it wasn't necessary. "Was it really that good? Felt a bit cheesy to me."

"Very moving. Brilliant backstory material," Lukas replied.

"Sweet! Now, before any of you make offers on the movie deal, I've got to worry about my basketball career first and foremost."

Lovino laughed. "As long as it's not a mass-produced Hollywood bucket of shit."

"Hey, Hollywood is great! But if you're down for a Spaghetti-Western I know the main character can get you in on the rights."

"Wait, we're not talking about a magic school drama anymore?" Emil asked.

"How about, Magic American Wild West School Drama featuring an evil Englishman!" He turned to Ivan, who'd been silent. "You down to help, big guy?"

"Hm?"

"My movie!"

"Oh, sure thing." He stood, having barely touched his food. "I'm sorry, I need to get going."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nyet, I just want to be alone." Ivan left, quickly finding his sister. The pair retreated from the Great Hall; the Hufflepuffs had had no victims during the pink massacre, so several professors were questioning the more mischievous of the students in the house, and Katyusha was more than happy to join her brother elsewhere.

Alfred gave it a good minute before following after. He figured it wouldn't hurt—Ivan had said he wanted to be alone, and yet he was with his sister. What harm would one more person be? He waved goodbye to his friends, grabbing a doughnut to go.

"Hmm…" Lukas mused aloud. "Alfred Jones… Arthur Kirkland… Ivan Braginsky… Alright, I'm taking bets."

"For what?" Emil asked. The rest of the group was also interested. Gilbert had finally been freed from Eliza's chokehold and was back in the conversation.

"Romantic interests. We've got a strong contender in Jonesinsky, or let's be real here, Vanfred. Less likely but still possible is JoKir, while for the big bucks you could bet on Bragland."

"Jesus Christ is everyone gay at this school?" Gilbert was laughing, slamming his palm against the table.

Lukas glanced at the assembled group. "Essentially, yes."

"What makes you think there's any romantic undertones?" Emil asked.

"There's always romantic undertones. We're European."

"Alfred's about as American as it gets, and Ivan's… wait, is Russia Asian?"

"Wow, props to the German education system," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Hey! I went to magic schools all my life, we don't learn much about geography. I bet I know more about it than Alfred at least!"

"He's actually not that stupid. He just acts that way," Emil revealed.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, during class, he'd answer every question under his breath, though if the professor ever called on him he'd act confused. I asked him about it, apparently he doesn't want to be seen as a nerd, or something. But, it's convenient that people tend to underestimate him."

"Damn, that's clever," Gilbert rubbed his chin. "Oh shit! We need to get to Quidditch practice! Lukas, Toni, let's go before the Captain has our heads!" The trio sprinted from the room, right past their headmaster who had come to question them. Giving their excuse, they avoided questioning. The rest of the pranksters were more than capable of maintaining their false innocence, so their headmaster excused them.

Meanwhile, Alfred had followed Ivan and his sister. The pair had settled in an empty classroom, shutting the door behind them. Alfred of course hadn't been allowed to use magic growing up, but he did have a few magical items courtesy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, one of which allowed him to listen through any door. He set it up and it was almost as if he was right next to them.

"—very kind, and I want to be friends with him." Ivan's voice was clear as crystal.

"That is wonderful, Vanya!" His sister responded. She spoke again, but had switched to Russian. Ivan replied in kind, and Alfred cursed his luck. He was completely clueless as to what they were saying. He could barely even tell what their tones were, as it all sounded the same to him. His best guess was that Ivan was angry while Katyusha was sad. She had even started crying! But, it mustn't have been because of Ivan, for he sounded concerned. Finally, some English came through.

"He is a Williams. Do you know who they are? What father would do if he knew the children were alive? Our father took their mother away when she tried to infiltrate the Dark Lord's hideout in Siberia! He tortured her, forcing the husband to watch. He never laid a hand against the man, but he was driven to insanity by his wife's horrid death."

"How do you know this?"

"I was with him. He made me watch."

"Oh, Vanya!" she started crying again. "I'm so sorry. I never should've left you and Natalya with him. I should've taken you with me!"

"Please, sestra. You've blamed yourself long enough. But, how can I face Alfred now? I watched his mother die. I did nothing to stop father, either. She was so strong, much stronger than I could ever be."

"Vanya, what could you do? You were much too young. He'd have killed you. Do you really think Alfred would care? He already told you he didn't mind our name."

"That was before. If he knew, he'd hate me, just like the rest of them. Father committed terrible acts against the Kirklands, I understand why he hates me. Against the Bonnefoys, too. He was evil, and no one will see me as anything more than that."

Alfred decided to make his move. He pocketed the listening tool, throwing open the door. "Ivan!"

"Alfred? What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you. Look, I heard everything. I don't care about that! I've gotten over the death of my mother. It was tough, but I forgave the man who did it to her—my father could never describe him well enough, but I did know it was a man."

"Were you eavesdropping?" Ivan's fists were clenched. "Well, I could never forgive my father for what he did. I… I still hear her… I…"

"Vanya," Katyusha placed her arms around her younger brother.

"I don't hate you, Ivan. You didn't kill my mother, and you couldn't have saved them. Death is natural during war. I'm sure you lost family members too. My parents weren't free from killing."

Ivan was silent, still allowing Katyusha to hold him. She spoke, "You are very wise for one so young."

Alfred shrugged. "It happens when your world is shattered. I grew up a bit quicker than most. Ivan, please, listen to me. You're my friend, and I want it to stay that way. Nothing I learn about your family could change my mind."

"What if you heard of things that _I've_ done?"

"Vanya, perhaps now is not…"

"Well, that's a bit different, but friends listen to each other. I'd hear you out and decide from there. No one's perfect, but that's no reason for them to be friendless. I've done things I'm not proud of. I'm not pure of heart or mind. Can't you trust me?"

Ivan laughed. Did Alfred really think his occasional lapses into silly pranks could compare to the things he'd seen and done? He'd been forced to curse, torture, and kill before most kids got their first wands.

"Look, think what you may about me, but just know that I'll be here for you, okay?" He turned to Katyusha. "Take care of him. I need do some work. I'll see you tomorrow, Ivan."

He waved goodbye, making the long trek to the library. He was surprised that it was so empty. Sure, it was only day one, but they did have a fair amount of work to take care of. _Oh well,_ he thought. _Guess I'll get the best marks, too_.

There was one other boy, a Ravenclaw, though he couldn't see his face due to the hood covering it. Alfred approached him, clearing his throat. He started, and the hood fell back, revealing a head of sleek, pink hair. Deep black eyes glared at the interruption.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, hey. I'm Alfred Jones. Could I study with you?"

"If you can keep quiet and not make fun of me, fine. And I'm Honda Kiku. It's nice to meet you."

"Sweet!" He sat down, unpacking his books and quill—he sure missed pens. "Hey, what'd the nurse say about your, er, condition?"

"It'll wear off in a few days. She doesn't know the counter curse, unfortunately."

"If you promise not to get mad, I can undo it."

He glared, "So it was you?"

"I plead the fifth!"

"We're in Scotland, that doesn't apply here."

"Aren't you Japanese? How do you know about foreign law? Anyway, if it makes you feel better we were going for Heracles."

"It doesn't. He's my friend."

"Do you want me to help or not? Otherwise you'll be stuck with it for three more days."

"…fine."

Alfred took out his wand, waving it over the other's head. He spoke the counter curse clearly—it was his own invention. He was a master at charms, and he often liked to attribute it to his natural charm. He gave a light touch to the others forehead, and the pink receded, replaced with black. The wings were gone with a mini explosion of glitter, and the boy was back to himself.

"Arigatoo, Jonezu-san."

"Sure thing. Just… do me a favor and not tell anyone who did this?"

"Very well. My older brother had given me an herbal remedy earlier, so I'll just say that it worked for once."

"What are you working on? I need to write my history report and do the charms homework."

"I also have charms work, though I have to read the potions books."

"Ah, you should partner up with Arthur Kirkland for potions. He's a master at it. Want to do charms together?"

"Hai, I haven't started."

The pair worked well together, Alfred explaining the intricacies of charm crafting and casting. He was very familiar with it, as he'd loved reading charm books growing up more than stories. He already knew countless quick fixes and spells. He was most looking forward to Charms as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The candles lit themselves when the sun faded, and they were nearing the end of their work. Kiku had asked a few questions about translations during his reading—it was lucky his study partner was adept at charades—so Alfred already knew what his upcoming Potions classwork would be like. Finished with their work, they left the library for their dorms. They made tentative plans to meet again the next day, though Alfred warned that he may be busy with flying lessons.

Back in the dungeon, he found Lovino being pestered by Antonio.

"Don't you have work to do, bastard?"

"It's only the first week! The course load isn't crazy yet!"

"So? You still shouldn't get behind!"

"Aw, does Lovi care about me?"

"Don't call me that!" He stood up then noticed Alfred. "Oh, hey dude. I'm heading to visit Feli in Hufflepuff. Want to join?"

"Huh? What for?"

"To visit your boyfriend?"

"Ivan's not my—" he blushed, noticing his mistake. Lovino snickered. "Shut up! Besides, he doesn't want to see me right now!"

"Come on, Jones, I've got money on the Cold War pairing!" Gilbert whined. Emil silently cheered, hoping this setback would drive Alfred into Kirkland's arms.

"I'm gone for five minutes and you've gone and made a betting table?"

Lukas wheeled over a chalk-covered board. "It's quite in depth. Plus, you've been gone for four hours."

"You've already gathered 130 galleons?" he shouted.

"Some Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs heard about it. Though they also want other couples displayed since they don't care much about you. We've got Bonneland—"

"Ha! More like Bonerland!" Gilbert hollered. Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Some Franthew—"

"Gross! That's my baby brother!"

"Isn't he older?" Emil, always the voice of reason, asked.

"Doesn't matter."

"Can't forget Heraku, Sadikles, Antino. Even Braginsky can be paired with Kirkland, Laurinaitis, and you."

"Who the hell is Laurinaitis? I don't think we've introduced his character yet," Alfred mused, only slightly jealous. He failed at hiding it, though he had thought he sounded aloof.

"What the hell are you saying? This isn't a stupid American sitcom!" Lovino shouted.

"His name's Toris. Hufflepuff. Oh, and Ludciano. You first years are much more dramatic than my year," Lukas continued to mark up the board.

"I'll put three pounds on Antino! Lovi, will you go out with me?" Toni asked.

"Hell no, dumbass!" He struck the other over the head. "I've had enough of you crazies." He threw his bag over his shoulder and left.

Alfred admired the board. Lukas had put in a lot of work. "Hey, is everyone in this school gay?"

"We're European."

"Ah, that's so true. Why isn't Bellstein up there?"

Gilbert spat out his butterbeer—how it hadn't been confiscated, nobody knew. "I am not gay!"

"You're European."

"Touché. But, doesn't mean I'd be gay for that priss! Just 'cause he has magical hands and great hair and a sexy mole and a waistline I could practically wrap one arm around!"

"I'll add it. Care to place any bets, Jones?"

"I know that Bonneland will happen, and I'm liking Bellstein more and more." He looked over the other couples. "I just spent a few hours studying with Kiku. He's really sweet. I may have clued him in on our prank, but only 'cause I wanted to do the counter curse!"

"Jonda! Add it now!" Emil said.

"Is anyone allowed to talk to someone without being paired up?"

"What part of 'we're European' do you not understand?"

Alfred sighed. "Kiku would go nuts over this. He mentioned that he's into writing his own doujinshi. Yaoi doujinshi." His friends stared blankly. "Oh, come on! It's like, fanmade manga. But he likes the homo ones exclusively."

"Ah, fascinating." Lukas crossed his arms. "I'm going to need a much bigger chalkboard."

Before leaving the common room for bed, Alfred handed over his six galleons. He'd wanted to place a bet on one of his own pairings, but he figured then that it would skew the results as well as the odds—surely everyone would jump on board if he made his intentions known.

Not that he was gay, of course, he reminded himself. Completely straight, a true hero. He threw his books on top of his trunk and changed into his pajamas. Exhausted from his long hours of work, he fell asleep, dreaming of winter and pink-haired Russian ballerinas.

* * *

 **a/n: this whole thing is a farce. i love it. don't mind my strangeness, it's who i am meant to be. Alright, i spent like all weekend making this thing that no one asked for, and i really need to catch up on homework. Drop a review, if you please, and maybe i'll write faster ;]**


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Alfred headed to breakfast earlier than the others since he'd retired so early. Before leaving the common room, he wrote "MathiKas" on the board with a smirk.

He put together a light breakfast—he'd already noticed that he'd been overeating. Since he wasn't exercising as frequently as he was used to, he had to be careful else he'd get too soft.

Kiku was also awake, reading at the table while he snacked on fruit. Alfred joined him at the Ravenclaw table.

"Ohayo gozaimasu, Jonezu-san."

"Good morning to you too. Watcha reading?"

"It is a popular manga in my country."

"Sick. Not one of your doujinshi things?"

"It wouldn't be appropriate to read in public, I don't think."

"Ah, gotcha. How was your night?"

"Good. I had time to draw and read a bit. Roderiku-san played the piano for us, which was very lovely."

"That sounds nice. Hey, guess what the Slytherin guys have created?"

"What?"

"They've got a pretty serious betting ring going about couples that will form among the students, mainly us first years."

"Couples?"

"Yup, all of them gay as hell."

"Really? How interesting… I'd like to see the options sometime."

"Sure thing, dude! Though, I don't think I can bring you into the common room… I'll have to copy it down next time I see it. If you want to place any bets, I'm sure Lukas can help you out."

Kiku nodded. Perhaps the list would give him much needed inspiration for his own gakuen manga. As nice as they were, Roderich and Héderváry weren't the steamiest of couples around. "What is your schedule like today?"

"I've got potions first and second, another history lesson, and later tonight we have astronomy."

"And you mentioned you had flying?" Kiku reminded.

"Oh yeah! Slytherin will be down on the pitch right before supper I think. And the older guys told us to stick around if we wanted to get a quick rundown on Quidditch before tryouts next month. You know, the best thing Potter ever did was making Hogwarts change its silly rules about banning first years from Quidditch!"

"I don't know, it's not a terrible idea. It helps us adapt to the course load without getting overwhelmed, and not getting concussions is preferable. What position do you wish to play?"

"Well, another third year I don't know well is the seeker and captain. He's this huge, Dutch dude named Nash. I think he'd be better for football, but apparently he's faster than a bat out of hell. Tonio's a chaser, and Gil's a beater. There's some sixth year, and she's a chaser. Lukas is the keeper. So, I can only really try for chaser or beater, since I doubt I could beat anyone out of their spot. Luckily Emil and Lovino aren't interested."

"You don't think you could be better?" Kiku was surprised. He figured Alfred would be cocky in all aspects of his life.

He shrugged. "I know I'm athletic, but magic sports are so different. I'm fast and strong on my feet, but on a broom? I'm average. I'll probably end up falling off during try-outs, to be honest. What about you? Are you trying out? Is your team any good?"

"I do not wish to try out, even though I think we are short of players this year."

"Well, no one's got it as bad as Slytherin. We only have a hundred students in all seven years. Everyone else has at least two-hundred."

"Why are your numbers so low?"

"'Cause of the war. A lot of kids just dropped out afterwards, especially the Slytherin kids whose parents were death eaters or whose families supported the Dark Lord. We only have about ten third years, tons of them were pulled out their first year when things escalated."

"I knew attendance was down in general, but I didn't think it'd be so different between the houses."

"Yup, it's nice though since we have a lot more space. Plus we all have gotten to know each other a bit better."

Kiku nodded. His house had about 250 students, 40 of them first years. If he recalled, at the sorting ceremony, there were probably half as many first-year Slytherins. Hogwarts only had as many students as it presently did because they'd started accepting witches and wizards beyond the UK and Ireland.

"I'll admit, I always grew up seeing Slytherins as the bad guys, so I totally get people's aversion. But, they're not all bad. And even though tons are pure-bloods, they're still much nicer about it than Arthur."

Kiku wasn't quite sure who Alfred was talking about, though he recognized the name as the one Alfred recommended he should pick as his potions partner. He had been busy dealing with having pink hair during the dinner when they'd "established themselves in the public eye" as rivals.

More students began pouring in, though there was still an hour until Alfred's first class. He saw Katyusha and caught her eye. She shook her head sadly, which Alfred interpreted to mean that Ivan wasn't ready to be friends just yet.

He waved goodbye to Kiku then trudged down to the potions room. Alfred had been hoping study a bit before his history lesson, but the professor was already there setting up cauldrons, so he offered his help.

The old man thanked his student for the help. He was the headmaster of Slytherin so Alfred had briefly met him during their tour, but he hadn't had a chance to speak with him. Professor Slughorn wasn't all that talkative, however, and he sipped at some strong tea while waiting for the remainder of the students, leaving Alfred in peace to read.

During the lesson, Ivan ignored him, and Alfred was partnered with Lovino, who proved to be completely incompetent at the art of potions. The pair barely managed to produce a stomachable liquid, but Slughorn didn't admonish them too much since they were in his house. Ivan proved to be just as unlucky. Surprisingly, Lovino's twin crafted a perfect solution.

In history, Alfred sat with Francis, catching up with his friend, who continued to make fun of Arthur's pink hair despite his own pink—though admittedly stylish—tresses. Alfred didn't see it as the right time to confess, so he held his tongue. After history, he spent a few hours in the library before Quidditch and supper.

While he was packing up his things, he heard a slight crash. He turned and saw a strange, black book on the floor. He picked it up, eyeing the title with interest. The librarian was walking over, surely to blame him for the sound, so he pocketed it in his robe quickly and retreated to his room to change.

He was loaned a nice, fast broom by Nash, who apparently owned three at the school alone. Everyone was certain he'd go on to play professionally. As Alfred expected, he wavered a bit on the broom, but after an hour or so of repetitive drills, he felt more and more confident. For the remaining half hour, both Antonio and Gil taught him their respective positions.

"Alright, you're definitely beater material, kesese!" Gilbert laughed in the air when Alfred slammed the bludger out of sight. "You're strong for a kid!"

"No, amigo, he's much more suited to be a chaser! His ball-handling is fantastic!"

"Which did you prefer, Jones?" Nash joined them. He had been practicing by himself for a bit, chasing a snitch that had been charmed to keep close.

"I don't know. Being a chaser is a lot more similar to basketball, which I love. I'm confident with passing and aiming and holding on to the ball. But, hitting shit is really fun. Why, if Arthur ends up playing I'd love to knock his ass—"

Gilbert was laughing, and Antonio grinned. Nash made no sound, but if he was a louder person perhaps he would've sighed. "Well after tryouts we'll have a better idea of where we'll need you. We still need one more person, anyway. Lukas, did you have any luck persuading Emil?"

He sighed. "No, he'll only play if he can be keeper, and I'm not interested in changing my position for him."

"Fine. What about Vargas? Or any of the other first years?"

"They're all a bunch of nerds. And Lovi is very uncoordinated, apparently."

"Well someone will have to coordinate him. He may be our only option." Nash turned to Lukas. "If worst comes to worst, you'll have to switch up so Emil can play."

Lukas rolled his eyes. "It'll be our funeral, he's no good."

"Not that you were doing any good against Alfred's and my killer combo!"

"Don't forget me!" the only female on the team and the third chaser, Helen, voiced.

"Yeah, all of us!"

"Whatever, I'm just a bit rusty. Alfred's just as bad at telegraphing his passes as you, Tonio. We've got a lot of work to do."

"I agree." Nash said. "For now, until tryouts, keep bringing people to practice. Jones, you can keep coming and we'll let you try out different positions. We really just need another body. I'd even let a Gryffindor join us just if we could have a seventh person as a stand-in."

"I could ask my brother to join us! Francis said their team is sticking to old ways and not taking first-years—it helps that they actually have numbers enough to reject people. He's probably on par with me, I'd say."

"That'll work. We'll just avoid revealing any plays."

Gilbert groaned. "Does that mean we'll just be running drills for a month? I wanna scrimmage!"

"If you really want Elizabeta to know our game plan and crush us then we can do it your way."

"Fine fine fine!" He brought his broom down to land, and everyone followed. Alfred was quite proud of himself for not falling during their extended float. Gilbert clapped him on the back. "Good job today!"

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Si, we could actually have a fighting chance this year! Nash is always great, of course, plus over the summer Lukas trained with Durmstrang players, and Helen and I have been getting in a lot of practice."

"And I'm naturally destructive so I'm awesome!"

"We've been struggling since the Dark Lord's defeat, since all the wimps of the house dropped out."

"What losers," Gilbert added.

"We're gonna kick ass this year!" They packed up the balls in their house chest, heading straight to the Great Hall with their brooms in hand.

The Gryffindor captain cursed. Elizabeta hadn't been planning on starting up her team's regular practice schedule for at least another week. Her team was lucky in that there was a majority upperclassmen, though unlucky in that the upperclassmen had much tougher course loads to adjust to. She glared at Gil, who stuck his tongue out at her, throwing an arm around the house's unlikely first year. Sure, in lieu of decreased attendance and smaller classes in the higher years, McGonagall had decreed that Quidditch captains could pick from the first years—after all, it worked out for The Harry Potter.

But, in her opinion, it was cheap, so she vowed not to indulge her team. Even during her first year when the decision had been made, she refused to try out, and Gryffindor has ignored the rule change ever since.

"Mattie!" Alfred called out, trotting over to Gryffindor table. "Dude, what is up? Are you free to eat with us?"

"Er, hey Al." He glanced at Arthur and Francis, who were hunched over a potions book—apparently there was a brew that could help with their pink hair. "I guess I can."

"Excellent!" Gilbert said. "We snakes have a proposition for you, young birdie. Don't worry, we're only using you for your body."

Matthew stood, blushing at the remark. "Uh, what is it?"

Gilbert led the handsome young twins back to the Slytherin table, conveniently far from Elizabeta's prying ears.

"Is anyone gonna answer me, eh?" Matthew asked, feeling ignored.

"Sorry, bro. We're trying to be discrete. So, do you wanna play Quidditch?"

"Of course, it looks—"

"What a coincidence, 'cause we need a temporary seventh man for practices," Alfred interrupted.

"But, we're from different—"

"Houses, you say?" he chuckled, the conversation following his script perfectly. "No need to fear, we don't wish to recruit you fully, that wouldn't fly. No, we need someone to help us up until try-outs so we can run drills and whatnot."

"I don't know, Elizabeta may get—"

"Angry? I thought you'd say that. Well, Nash suggested we keep this hidden from her. We won't be practicing any plays or formations so you couldn't really report on anything except for how awesome we are."

"And who has that much ink?" Gil smirked.

"But, I feel bad for you, bro! You should be able to play! How about this: you play with us, and if Elizabeta finds out that you're out here getting good, she'll have no choice but to let you on the Gryffin-bore team. She may be stubborn about the rule thing, but she's even more so about us having an advantage."

Gilbert raised a brow at the change in plan. He could tell Matthew seemed to agree, but there was a third, less desirable outcome that was possible as well. Alfred shared a conspiratorial wink, and Gilbert knew that the kid knew but chose not to tell his brother that there was the possibility that Elizabeta would end up blackballing Matthew instead, maybe even until she graduated.

"You know, why not? It's been weird not having you around. It'd be nice to see you more," Matthew smiled. Alfred gave his much quieter brother a high-five. The other twin turned toward Gilbert, extending his hand. "I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Matthew Williams-Jones, Alfred's older brother, though I'm sure he's said otherwise."

Gilbert's hand met the others, and he smirked. "The most awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt at your service!"

Nearby, Emil tapped his brother's shoulder. Lukas turned and regarded the new pairing, jotting it down in his notebook. He was sure it would anger Alfred, which was perfect—he was still a bit upset that the first year had had the audacity to write his name with Mathias's, and even more so that it was actually a popular bet. Even though Alfred was very protective of his brother, with the way Gilbert was eyeing the oblivious boy like a piece of meat, he had a feeling that betting on the two would be a very lucrative endeavor. In addition, it'd really piss off the loudmouth. Lukas smiled fondly at the thought. Such was the culture of Slytherin, they were friends when they needed it. Still, when push came to shove he had nothing against Alfred. He just wanted a quick fix of revenge and so would pull his stunt. A Hufflepuff wouldn't last a day in the house, in his opinion.

Alfred's third day of class faded into four, then five and six and seven. Weeks passed of the same routine: he went to class, studied with Kiku when he could, practiced with the Slytherin guys and his brother, he'd eat, and sleep. On occasion he'd meet up with a once again blonde Francis, but he never spoke with Arthur. Ivan had also continued to avoid him, which bothered him more.

Finally the day came for Quidditch tryouts, and he was excited, causing him to dress in a disorderly fashion. He was throwing on a slightly dirtied robe when he felt a hard lump in the pocket. Fearing that it was a forgotten homework assignment, he ripped the book out and glanced at it. He remembered it as the book that had appeared before him in the library, the one with the intriguingly sinister title. He returned it to his pocket, vowing to check it out before Potions that morning. He headed straight to the classroom, no longer hungry for food and giving himself an hour to read.

The words were so long and esoteric that he felt himself getting a headache in the dim room. Still, when he'd read the title, _Dark Charms and Their Creation_ , he couldn't resist diving straight into the thick of it. As he well knew, his charm work was superior to the average first year—hell, even the third years were amazed by what we came up with for their prank. Still, charms was a softer practice in their core lessons, and he wanted to get more out of it. He knew about the dark charms: jinxes, hexes, and curses, but he had no experience with their crafting or wand movements. While in the bookstore in Diagon Alley, he'd peaked at the charms books for sixth and seventh years and found that they had no mention of applying the dark arts.

He didn't imagine he'd have a hard time learning the already well-established spells, the _Alohamora_ s and the _Rictusempra_ s they'd be forced to perform for exams in the coming years. No, when it came to copying words and wrist motions, he was a natural. He was even fantastic at conveying inauthentic emotions; part of him thought he'd make a great actor because of it.

The book had been thoroughly read and reread before, as the free spaces were covered with a tight scrawl, some self-made jinxes and hexes that Alfred was dying to try. The appendix also had a short list of the more well-established dark charms, and it got him thinking that maybe this book was supposed to be in the restricted section.

Finally, several Hufflepuffs arrived, among them Ivan. Alfred waved to him, but the other boy glanced away, frowning. He sat with a very short boy with long, brown hair. Alfred huffed, then decided to test out one of his new spells. He pointed his wand at his target, flicking firmly and whispering the Pepper Breath Hex. He couldn't tell if it worked at first, but on seeing Ivan retreat from his fellow housemate when he spoke, he figured it had been successful. His wand was well-suited for dark magic, and even though he'd had next to no training, he felt the magic flow through him like a tranquil river, a sign that he was doing things right.

The hexed boy stood up, panting with his mouth wide open. He was red in the face and waving his hands frantically as if to fan himself.

"Are you alright, Toris?" Ivan asked.

"Yes, Mr. Braginsky!" he squeaked. Alfred scoffed at the sound. "I'm just feeling really warm!"

Lovino sat next to Alfred. "What's up with the puffer?"

Alfred shrugged. "Hexed, it would seem."

Lovino raised a brow. "Now who here would have reason to hex a rival for Braginsky's attention?"

He rolled his eyes. "Aren't we past that? The pairing's one of the least popular. Even the Ravenclaws aren't into it, and they're fans of Kiku and Elizabeta all because of one conversation."

"Mr. Laurinaitis, if you can't control yourself, I must ask that you remove yourself from the room," Professor Slughorn finally acknowledged the ruckus. The boy ran from the room, tears in his eyes and face redder than a tomato. Lovino snickered. "Now, Mr. Braginsky, it seems you're without a partner. You will work with Jones, and Mr. Vargas can join his younger brother. If we're all quite finished with that, we may begin."

Alfred and Lovino exchanged the lowest of high fives before each went to their new assigned table. Ivan pointedly ignored Alfred, but he was having none of that that day. Confident from his hex, he continued to chat all during their preparation, not minding when Ivan wasn't replying. Still, the taller boy couldn't hide his smile whenever Alfred told an amusing story of his past few weeks.

Finally, Alfred laid it all on the table. He confessed that he wished to spend time with Ivan again, practically begging him for another chance.

Ivan smiled softly, opening his mouth to answer.

"Ah, Mr. Laurinaitis, welcome back. We haven't gotten too far, so feel free to join Braginsky and Jones."

Alfred glared at the boy, face normal and breath presumably less peppery. Ivan was also staring intently at his returned friend. The young Slytherin pointed a finger and muttered quietly.

Toris fell for what seemed like minutes. What started as a simple trip escalated into much more, and he ended up slipping into spare cauldrons and knocking over Lovino's set-up, which triggered an epic spewing of profanity from the Italian.

Alfred froze, watching the scene unfold. _He_ had done that. _He_ : a first year, only a month of casting spells under his belt, with nothing but a book of hexes and a proclivity for mischief, had cast a wandless hex.

Professor Slughorn rushed to Toris's side, helping the boy up. Ivan stared. Alfred's hand felt like it was vibrating, and only when he touched his pocketed wand did it calm down. His body felt electrified, his mind renewed, as if he'd never been awake before. If this is how powerful one felt when performing a successful hex, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to cast a true curse.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Well, I think it's about time we add the pixie powder, don't you?"

* * *

 **a/n: shorter chapter, but it's there! Also, i got a review saying the couple names are confusing. Let me tell you, bruh don't i know it! the country names are so much easier to use than their human names! D':**


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Alfred's belief that he and Ivan were a power couple of sorts, their combined uselessness in Potions did not manifest itself in any semblance of unmatchable skill as he hoped it might. Slughorn shook his head at the poor, grey slop that they had conjured but didn't place any blame since Alfred was in his house and the Braginsky boy gave him quite a fright when he smiled.

The first years only had Defense Against the Dark Arts once a week, and unluckily for the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, it was right after their second weekly Potions lesson and all the way on the other side of the grounds. Thus, Alfred dragged a reluctant Ivan behind him in order to be on time for their next class.

Alfred thought that he'd like this class—if he was going to go about learning curses, he'd be smart to learn how to counter similar retaliations from his enemies. However, Professor Malfoy was more intent on teaching them the boring, textbook basics, and apparently that was all they would learn their first year. Still, he did like Malfoy, even if the professor wasn't all that invested in the previously jinxed job post—apparently he was only filling in as a favor to the school before furthering his studies in Healing. He had graduated the year of the Battle and helped with the reconstruction alongside Potter, even as his father was facing his trial and his friends turned their back on his change in heart. Gilbert and Helen, cousins to the Malfoys, said that a number of Malfoy's relatives and fellow Slytherin housemates remained loyal to the Dark Lord and retreated into hiding with their parents, leaving him behind without his wealth or the clout of his name.

Still, at least it was another class period for him to sit with Ivan, a gift since they were on something of speaking terms. Toris had ended up sitting with his friend Feliks whose words of comfort were much more adequate than Ivan's slight chuckles at his expense.

After another dull lesson on simple smokescreen spells nearly put the pair to sleep, Ivan agreed to spend a bit more time with the persistent American. Alfred let out a loud whoop in celebration but was forced to make a hasty retreat for the Quidditch field for tryouts, but not before he made Ivan verbally promise to meet up with him after dinner.

* * *

"Announcing this year's newest additions to the Slytherin kick-ass Quidditch team!" Gilbert yelled over the din of the Great Hall. The older members of the team had convinced the rest of the table to drum their hands. He gave a grand flourish toward a still sweaty American. "Alfred Fuck-you-up Jones!" The blond first year stood and waved. The Slytherins cheered while the rest of the students rolled their eyes at the theatrics. "Fresh from the other side of the pond, this fried chicken-loving rookie will be our second Beater, alongside my awesome self!"

"And we also have Lovino Vargas!" the surly boy waved on Antonio's urging. "Sugar, spice and everything nice—this is how to _not_ describe him. Our newest Chaser!" They had managed to convince the first year to join them so that they had a full team. Matthew was still a welcome stand-in, as he was actually a pretty good Chaser himself. Lovino was adequate enough at the position, however, and since he was god awful at being a Beater, he was pulled into the ranks alongside Antonio and Helen.

Matthew had joined the table only for the announcement, but excused himself to sit with his fellow Gryffindors. Gilbert matched Elizabeta's glare while everyone else started the feast.

Alfred and Lovino were poring over a broom advertisement, both set on ordering themselves the best broom to make up for their lack of experience. Alfred glanced up when a shadow fell over the paper.

"Jones," Arthur began. Alfred wasn't a fan of the way other countries used last names—so dramatic, in his opinion! Still, since they were rivals, he followed suit.

"Kirkland. What brings you to the better half of the hall?"

"I wanted to congratulate you on making your team."

Francis was behind him. "Oui, it is fantastique, Alfred! Congratulations! I'm sure you will be great!"

He grinned. "Thanks dude!" Turning to Arthur, he gave a nod. "It's a shame I won't meet you or Mattie on the pitch till next year."

Arthur waved his hand. "Yes, well, since Gryffindor didn't lose a bulk of its population to the dark arts, we're not so desperate as having to rely on first-years to even field a team."

"Arthur…" Francis warned. The other Slytherins were growing hostile due to the comment.

Alfred picked up his bat, tapping it threateningly against his shoulder. "Care to elaborate? It'd be in the best interest of your health if you didn't."

Arthur didn't seem to register the danger. "I'm just saying, half your house's parents were so busy mooning over Voldemort that they didn't even notice they'd lost the damn—"

Francis covered his friend's mouth when several students rose to their feet. "Ah, forgive my friend. He forgets himself, sometimes. We'll be leaving now." He backed away, straight into Antonio's chest. Gilbert was beside him, blocking the pair from retreat.

Alfred was in front of them, his bat placed beside Arthur's cheek. "That's hardly a good apology, don't you guys think?" The others smirked and nodded. "Tell us you're sorry, Kirkland."

"Bloody git, as if—" A sudden spell separated the pair. Elizabeta marched over, wand out.

"You guys had better get your hands off my first years!" She aimed her wand toward Gilbert who raised his hands.

"Hey, quit your pointing, this ain't a duel!" Alfred redirected his bat toward her. "We're in the Great Hall, as if we would do anything too nasty."

"Everything you say is nasty! You're all just as bad as this clown!" She stuck her wand closer to Gilbert's throat, and he squeaked.

Alfred wasn't a fan of being threatened, even less so of witnessing his friends in danger. His bat extended, he whispered a hex.

There was a puff of green smoke, and when it cleared, Elizabeta was covered in a mucous-like goo, as were Arthur and Francis. Gilbert laughed at their expense, and soon the whole table joined in.

"Why you little!" She charged for him, slipping on some goo. From the ground she cursed him. By then Slughorn had arrived, splitting up the quarrel with his voice. He raised a brow at Alfred who shrugged.

"You can search me, sir. My wand's on the table," he gestured behind him, and sure enough his wand still laid beside his newspaper clipping. Lovino held it out for the professor.

"Very well. Just keep your spats quiet next time. The Great Hall is no place for drama. You may get back to eating." He smiled. "I look forward to a great year of Quidditch. Let's show those guys that Slytherins can't be beaten back so easily!"

The table gave a slight cheer, and when Slughorn was out of earshot, they crowded Alfred.

"Dude, how'd you do that? Did you have a gadget for it? Or what happened?"

"I'll never tell!" he gave a wink. His friends pouted. "Oh alright, just some wandless magic. It was even easier with the bat, actually, I guess it mimicked the movement enough."

"Are you serious? That's awesome! Even Helen can't do that, and she's old as shit!" Gilbert's cousin punched his shoulder.

"Shut it, idiot," she whispered harshly. "We'll have to keep this on the down-low, alright? Only the people present need to know. Otherwise Jones will just get blamed for everything that happens around here."

The team members plus Emil nodded.

Gilbert laughed more. "This is so sick! I can't wait for our next prank. That goo stuff was hilarious, what was it?"

"Simple dragon booger hex."

"Real bogeys?" Lovino smirked. "Nice."

"Jesus Christ, you show a boy anything gooey or gross and they go crazy. So immature. Well, I'll see you all tomorrow at practice, I'm off to tutoring," Helen gave the boys a wave.

"How you manage to fail our grandpa's class every year is beyond me," Gilbert teased. "Grandpa Germania's Ancient Runes is so easy!"

"She just wants to spend time alone with him!" Antonio said.

"Ew, he's like one hundred years old!" she defended.

Alfred was shocked. "Wait, Professor Germania is your grandfather? He doesn't look a day over 20!"

"Half centaur—human half obviously," Gilbert responded ("That's not really how genetics work I don't think," Lukas whispered to his brother.). "They look younger and live for a long time. He and Professor Roma Vargas have been duking it out for a century now!" He gave Lovino a harsh pat on the back. "I should hate this little twerp for it, but he's irresistible!"

"Shut it. I'm not to be associated with my idiot of a grandpa. He's into muggles, of all things, stupid class to teach on. Plus, he only ever cared about Feliciano anyway."

"How is my dear brother doing in that department, anyway?"

"He's hurting Feli's feelings by being a total idiot. I say we make his breakfast explode tomorrow."

Gilbert nodded, playing the role of a wise mentor nicely. "I agree. He'd look much better if he replaced all that hair gel with jam. You all up for it tomorrow morn'?" He glanced at all of them, but mainly focused on Alfred.

"Yes sir, Captain Gilbert sir!"

"Excellent! Now, meeting in the common room to discuss future plans with Jones' sick new talent!"

"Oh wait, I need to meet with a friend real quick, is that okay?" the man of the hour asked.

"Fine, fine. I guess we can like, study or something before you arrive," Gilbert cringed.

"Heaven forbid we study while in school!" Antonio laughed while Alfred left, heading directly for the Hufflepuff table.

Ivan was sitting with a trembling Feliciano when Alfred threw his bags down in front of him.

"Hey, dude. Ready to hang out?"

"Da, though I must use this time to study, if you don't mind?"

"That's perfect, 'cause I'm a bit behind on my work, too." He glanced at Lovino's brother. "Hey, how are you?"

"Hello! I am doing fine, thank you! You're Alfred, right? Lovino talks about you quite a lot."

Alfred blushed, "Oh shush."

"He says you're very nice to all the first years in the dorm, and very popular!"

"Well, I don't know about that."

"Although, he hates you for making him play Quidditch with Antonio."

"That sounds more like the Lovino I know and love."

Feliciano smiled. "Thanks for being such a good friend to him. He's a bit harsh, I know, but he's just a big softie."

"Careful now, you don't wanna reveal his weaknesses to me," Alfred winked.

Feli gave a quick nod before heading over to the Ravenclaw table. He plopped down next to Ludwig who had been eating quietly with Kiku. Alfred waved at his study buddy who gave a polite nod. Kiku glanced at Ivan though quickly turned away when the other smiled.

"So, where you wanna study? It's pretty nice outside, not too windy," Alfred continued.

"That sounds nice. There's some good tables near the lake." Ivan was busy eating, and Alfred remembered that he too was still hungry—tryouts had been quite rigorous and his pleasant meal had been interrupted by an annoying Gryffindor. He dug into a new plate of food.

"Does the Hufflepuff Quidditch team take first years?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"I don't know. We don't try very hard at the sport. I know we have a full team, at least. Feliks mentioned try-outs being tomorrow, so I suppose they do."

"That's cool. That Gryffindor captain is so stubborn! I wish my brother could play this year. But, we've actually got him practicing with us, which is really fun. How come you're not playing again?"

He shrugged. "I never got into Quidditch. I am more interested in the arts than sports."

"I can't relate. But, that's cool. I know you said you like ballet, what other art do you do?"

"I sketch on occasions, and write a bit. My writing's no good, though. And knitting, of course."

"Sweet! I like to make comics sometimes, superhero stuff of course. Though that Kiku kid puts my best work to shame, he's very creative with his manga things! Hey don't they use tree-trunks as brooms in Russia?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"From _History of Koldovstoretz_ , obviously. That's your school, right?"

"Da. And they use trees, but not just the trunks. The leaves and branches are there, too."

"That's so weird!"

Ivan chuckled. "I'm not sure why they do it, but it is traditional. We have brooms, of course."

"You mentioned that your dad wanted to send you to a darker school in Russia. That's not Koldovstoretz, is it? The book didn't make it seem that way…"

"Nyet, there are two schools. The one my father attended is a bit more secret. The name translates to something along the lines of 'Dominion of Darkness'. His attempts to reopen it so far have met little resistance."

"Geez, that's a gaudy name."

"Indeed. They don't accept students without any magical training, however. Most students join when they're about 15, I think, after having spent 5 years at Koldovstoretz or another school."

"Interesting. I visited Ilvermorny campus once. Matthew came down with a strange sickness and we needed magic. My dad's muggle-born, and we lived with his parents so they weren't super familiar with magic at all. It's a huge place, really pretty though."

"How did your dad end up at Hogwarts anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Since his parents live in America, isn't he from the U.S.?"

"Oh no, they're all British. They just moved a few years ago to be closer to a doctor my grandpa needed. Surprising move, I know, going to America for access to healthcare. But, he needed the treatment and it was cheaper there."

"I see. And your mother? Was she also from England?" Of course, he knew the Williams were a powerful wizarding family, but his sister had told him that if he wanted friends, he had to learn to converse, which required asking seemingly pointless questions.

"Yup, she's got a huge extended family. They're all a bit stuffy for my liking, though. Send great gifts at least, and my birthday card's always had some cash," he grinned. "Besides the Dark Lord-esque father, what's your family like?"

"Insane. My parents met at the Dark Arts school, both were intent on cursing a certain young girl and they fell in love instantly. They make a great killing team. My mother has her kind moments, but only when taking care of us. You know Katyusha already. I have a younger sister Natalya. She takes after our parents and is favored for it."

"Would she go to the scary school?"

"I assume when she is old enough she'd transfer there. I have a feeling though that she will join us next year here. She's slightly… possessive of me."

"Weird."

"Quite."

"Wait, what if your dad makes you transfer when you're 15?"

"He won't, I don't think. Since the fall of Voldemort he's been a bit less motivated. He only briefly mentioned that option to Katyusha on her last birthday and didn't put up a fight when she said no."

"Well that's good. What's Russia like, anyway? Seems big and cold."

"That's accurate, but it is a lovely and diverse land. I miss it. The laws on magic are much less restrictive too. I have always had a wand, actually. It was my grandfather's."

"Cool! In the U.S. it's not as strict, either. You can do things in your home as a minor and they don't have like sensors or whatever like here. I never got to practice anything, though. I was very busy with basketball."

"Do you want to go on to play basketball?"

"I'd love to! I spent a lot of time in Oklahoma, went to camps at a pretty high ranking basketball school there. I know the coach and he expressed an interest. Obviously, I'm a long way from college but if I keep practicing, maybe I could go there." He frowned. "But, it's also possible I'll be caught up in the magic world too. This is my life, now."

"Are you sad?"

"A little. We moved back for my dad of course, but now I don't play basketball with anyone good. I don't have my coaches and trainers or my friends. I don't even know how I'd apply to the American colleges without a legitimate high school transcript!"

"I'm sure you could continue living with your grandparents though, couldn't you?"

"I could, but I can't abandon Matt and my dad. We're in charge of finances now, our lawyers are useless. Mattie couldn't do it alone. Plus he's been so excited about Hogwarts his whole life, even though he also lost his hockey in coming here."

"I'm sorry you feel this way. I'm sure you'll figure things out."

He beamed. "'Course I will! I'm the hero! Now, you done eating? Let's get to studying. Also my poor cat Hero misses Luka so much, we need to reunite the lovers!"

"Whatever you say, Alfred," Ivan smiled.

They studied much longer than expected, partly because they were enjoying each other's company and prolonged the visit and partly because studying with a friend vastly lowered one's efficiency. And so, both were forced to sprint back to their respective dorms in order to not get caught out past curfew. Alfred gave Ivan a quick hug before parting for his familiar, eerie dungeon.

Not surprisingly, the common room was bustling with activity. The guys and Helen bombarded Alfred with questions, Gilbert even searching his body for hickeys. Upon seeing Alfred with Ivan at dinner, they immediately assumed the pair had had a romantic rendezvous. Lukas claimed that he could barely keep track of the influx of Galleons.

Alfred didn't even mind the interrogating, only smiling—or blushing when things got a bit more graphic—at the comments. He was in a good mood: he was officially on the Quidditch team; he finally spoke to Ivan, for hours at that; his Charms marks were good, in fact he'd been doing well in all his classes; he was done with homework for the next few days; and he managed to spend time with his brother. Life was good, and he had nothing to complain about.

"Oi, Alfred." He snapped back to reality at Lovino's harsh call. "You in there?"

"Yup, sorry for spacing out. What's up?"

"In addition to Ludwig, Gilbert thinks we should prank Roderich tomorrow."

"Same thing? Food to the face?"

"I think so. Unless you can come up with something better."

Alfred pursed his lips. He was a bit tired, but what could it hurt to plot a bit with his friends? Lukas immediately handed him some never-ending chalk. Magic. Gotta love it. Alfred sat pondering for a few minutes in front of a clean chalkboard. Finally, he drafted his plans on the board, his friends eagerly awaiting the plan.

The next day during dinner, the execution was flawless. Timing was everything, and the prep work they'd had to do at breakfast and lunch was extensive. Still, it was worth it when, amid the calm, usual chatter, the owls swarmed the Gryffindor table as well as several students in Ravenclaw. The Great Hall became a temporary rookery, and unlike in the mornings when the owls delivered mail, there was no order at all in the maelstrom.

Then, the cats came.

Many a student's supper was ruined when the felines used the food as springboards, hoping to capture any of the feathery creatures. The squawks and hisses were deafening, and it took all the professors to evacuate the animals.

Alfred was enjoying the scene, but even more so the buildup for his own sub-plot of the scheme.

"Yo, Jones," Gilbert nudged him. "Where's Kirkland? He's missing out on the fun. I'd thought you'd make sure he was here since he's the one you most want to see getting pelted with owl shit."

"Ah, while that would be gratifying immediately, some things require a bit more subtlety. Why arrange for poop on Arthur for one meal when I can make sure he's stuck dealing with poop and other similar gross things for a few weeks?"

"What do you mean?"

There was a loud pop, and Slughorn appeared by McGonagall. He was gripping Arthur's arm rather tightly, and the young gentleman was complaining loudly.

"Minerva, I found this one in the rookery. He'd locked himself in accidentally after letting the birds out."

"Unhand me! I told you I didn't do this! I was framed!"

"I will deal with questioning him later, Professor. We don't have any evidence."

Professor Sprout bounded over. "I figured out what attracted them. The wood grains of the table are infused with some very potent and enchanted cat nip. I've been developing some strains in my lab, I assume someone broke in. Some students have it in their hair as well. As for the owls, some simple treats were left out under the table. I'm sure if we search rooms quickly, we can find the catnip, at least. It's easy to track since it's so strong in smell." A number of cats were purring near Francis. One nipped at his pocket, and the boy pulled out a paper-wrapped package. They went nuts, and even Minerva's eyes widened. She remained composed, however, even though a part of her wanted that bag for herself. "Oh dear, I suppose we've found our culprit. Aren't Mr. Bonnefoy and Kirkland quite close?"

"I swear we didn't do this! Why would we attack our own table?"

"That's enough. Bonnefoy and Kirkland, you two are to come with me immediately."

Elizabeta joined the group. She was covered in goop and glared at Arthur. "Kirkland, what's this rubbish I heard you've been saying?"

"What?" he asked.

"Everyone says that Matthew told them that you told him I was an idiot captain for my rules and that you were going to get back at me for it. Is this your idea of a prank? My boyfriend is severely allergic to cats!" As if on cue, Roderich sneezed cutely. Across the room, Gilbert's heart clenched.

"I didn't say that… Arthur never said that to me, either," Matthew said. Only McGonagall seemed to hear him, as Elizabeta was still trying to murder Arthur and Francis with her look alone. The Headmistress carted the boys away, and the room was silent.

"Alright, tell me your secrets," Gilbert begged.

"It was simple, really. I left Arthur a note to meet an admirer at the rookery—he's a romantic at heart. Before when I was taking the owls' food I enchanted the door to lock upon closing, and I knew he'd close it for a more private meeting."

Gilbert nodded. "Right, the door's always open. Wait, what did you do to the owls' food?"

"I had to ensure that they'd be hungry enough for the treats to draw them so well."

"Gotcha."

"Francis was easy. I made sure to steal a bit more of the catnip than we needed and planted it on him earlier. And for the rumors? My brother's so quiet that most of the older Gryffindors don't even notice him. It was child's play to borrow his Gryffindor clothes and pretend to be him spreading Arthur's words."

"Jesus, that's genius."

"Thanks. Ideally, he'll be punished by having to clean this mess. Plus, the teacher's will be less likely to trust him in the future."

Ivan shifted in his seat. "Isn't that a bit mean?"

"It's not that bad. There's a good chance they'll get off scotch-free. There's little evidence other than speculation, anyway. Arthur may also just go running to his father to avoid punishment too."

"Damn, you put a lot more effort into this than I thought! I'm glad your infusion spell worked."

"Yes, it was a bit tricky, and someone almost walked in on me, but I managed. Luckily someone else had made the spell for induced miscibility, though I had to adjust it since I was working with solids."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side…" Lovino said.

Alfred chuckled. "If you didn't already know that by now, you'd be an idiot." He smiled his normal smile, but there was a spark in his eyes that went beyond a mischievous glint. The others turned away, slightly intimidated. Alfred went back to eating, though he soon excused himself to do his homework. He invited Ivan, who was forced to decline as his house was having cake later for someone's birthday.

"Am I the only one who found that incredibly hot?" Gilbert asked once Alfred was far enough away. Nash smacked the back of his head.

"No fraternizing with teammates."

"Don't be gross, Gilbert, he's eleven years old," Lukas rolled his eyes. GilFred was not a pairing he'd expected.

"And I'm thirteen, so what? I'm just saying it was cool, alright. Really suave. What do you think, Braginsky?"

He blushed. Sure, he could understand the appeal. It was interesting to see his friend behaving so dominatingly. At the same time, however, the viciousness wasn't something Ivan liked. He'd seen enough of such things thanks to his upbringing, and he tended to block things out. Too much exposure and he feared… he shook his head. Even dwelling on those blurry spaces from his past confused him.

Gilbert turned away from the silent Russian, whose face bespoke a great pain. "Well, whatever, I know I'm right. Although I can't say for sure who's hotter between him and his brother."

Nash glared. "Stop preying on the first years." The captain had become rather protective of Matthew since he had started joining in on their practices. Lovino cursed as Antonio leant in closer to him. Nash turned his glare from Gilbert. "You too, Toni. Hands off the chaser."

He pouted. "I didn't even touch him! You're not being fair."

Lovino stood. "Well, I'm going to the room to study. This smell has made me lose my appetite. Emil, wanna work on history?"

"Sure, I haven't even started the paper." He glanced at Ivan. "Er, see you around Braginsky."

He had returned to the conversation and so smiled. "Da, good luck with your work." The pair waved and headed off, books in tow.

"You guys aren't worried about Alfred, are you? We're only a month or so in and he's caused a lot of trouble," Ivan asked.

"Eh, he'll be fine as long as he doesn't get caught. Even if he does it's not like we're hurting people. We're not, like, killing animals and putting their carcasses in their beds or anything!"

"Yeah, who would do that?" Antonio asked, smirking.

"Okay, that was one time! And the animal was already dead!" Gilbert shouted. He crossed her arms. "That girl totally deserved it for the way she looked at me."

"For the last time, Gilbert, she has a lazy eye!"

"Yeah, and it's mad disrespectful. Wake the fuck up when I'm talking to you!"

"You guys are crazy," Ivan noted.

"You'll get used to it. It's a fun kind of crazy, at least. There's a method to the madness, don't worry."

"Hey, you guys," a curt, blond man strode to the table. He was a prefect in their house, a fifth year named Basche Zwingli. He kept to himself, mainly, but everyone listened to him as he was quick to cast jinxes on misbehaving students. "We've been told to clear the room till the mess is cleaned up. Finish up your food and go back to the common room, or library. I don't care. There'll be fresh food set up in the common room in case anyone is still hungry." With that, he was gone, rejoining his young sister, an equally quiet girl who'd followed him into Slytherin three years prior, though everyone who knew her thought she wasn't suited for the house.

The group quickly stuffed their faces, leaving for their houses. Ivan was soon back in Hufflepuff's cozy common room, knitting a pillowcase for Alfred. He'd started the project the night before, but he'd made good progress. The silver 'A' had already taken shape against the green background. He smiled at his work, humming softly while his housemates worked or lounged. Only did Feliciano interrupt him with a friendly greeting, and he was content. As promised, he also got a hearty slice of cake to celebrate a prefect's birthday.

Perhaps he had been too worried about Alfred. They _were_ just harmless pranks, after all. Even if they escalated, Ivan would be there for him, just as Alfred had looked past Ivan's faults before. It'd be hypocritical of him to judge anyway, given his past experiences. He shook his head again, focusing anew on his knitting. There were some things he kept hidden, and he had a good reason for it. There was a throbbing pressure in his head and he sighed, knowing that he wouldn't feel better until he slept off the headache. And so, he retired to his room for the night, stowing his craft safely in his trunk. He scooted a snoozing Luka to the side of the bed so he himself could sleep, not even waking the lazy lump. Now that he thought about it, the cat hadn't even ventured to the Great Hall for dinner. He remembered seeing Alfred's cat in the chaos, its naturally rambunctious nature well suited for the ruckus.

With pleasant thoughts of owls and cats and American friends, Ivan fell into a deep sleep. The one good thing about his headaches was that they blocked his dreams, and more importantly his nightmares. Those were always as disorienting as they were traumatic, and he wouldn't wish them on his worst enemy. He never knew if he was killing or being killed, nor could he recognize the sights and sounds. Were they memories? Or just imaginings? He had no idea, and he never dwelled. Doing so would not be wise, he knew, as that is what usually triggered his headaches. Besides, he hated seeing his nightmares while awake, the specters of his past more persistent than the actual ghosts that Alfred feared so much.

* * *

 **A/N: yo yo yo i'm back! hope you enjoyed, drop a review if you did! i was rereading stuff and noticed some annoying typos in other chapters and, most embarrassingly, in the goddamn title D: so i fixed those!**

 **anyway, fun fact, i'll be in russia for two weeks this summer! super pumped. not so fun fact, it's midterms week since next week is le spring break. I have hella homework, two exams, and a presentation as well as seven research papers i need to read and summarize! so naturally i went out three times this weekend. college, man. gotta love it. but, in a week i'll be drinking it up in toronto, woot woot.**


	5. Chapter 5

**trigger warnings: child sexual abuse**

* * *

Alfred was studying with Kiku, Lovino, Ivan and Emil when next he saw Arthur, only a week after the animal debacle. He was working on his star charts for his day of birth—Matthew had refused to let him copy his—when Arthur and Francis entered the library. Arthur waved on seeing Kiku, as the pair were Potion's partners. He froze when he saw Alfred.

"Jones," he nodded respectfully.

"Hey, Kirkland. Your hair's looking better today. Purrrr-fect I'd say."

"Ha!" Lovino burst out. "You're a hoot, Al."

"Coo…" Emil flapped his arms. Ivan giggled at the antics.

"Why you… it's not funny, okay?"

"It was a brilliant prank, I must admit," Alfred complimented. "I wouldn't have gotten caught so easily, though." He smirked. His fellow Slytherins laughed.

Francis sighed. "Come on, Arthur. If you two can't be civil, there's no way we'll get any studying done here."

"Oh, alright," Alfred said. "I'll be nice. Did you guys get in trouble?"

"No," Arthur mumbled. "Not for that, at least. The evidence was a bit too shaky."

"No cleaning poop then? That's a shame."

"Shut it."

"But wait, you said you got in trouble for something else?" Ivan asked.

"It was nothing, really. Arthur just lost his temper a bit with the headmistress after she cleared us," Francis explained.

"Gotta work on that, man," Alfred advised. "What's the punishment?"

"I have to help Hagrid out with cleaning after his many pets. The Hall was cleaned professionally and the table replaced. They didn't want anyone else near it since it was practically destroyed."

"Who would want to frame you idiots, anyway?"

"I can think of a few people," Arthur glared at the group.

Alfred turned to Kiku, who was trying his best to ignore the scene. "You've been caught, Kiku, your reign as prank king has come to a whisper of an end."

"May he rest in peace," Emil said.

Francis laughed. "Oh, I miss you Alfred! You should hang out with us more often! I'll be sure to keep Arthur on a leash. He always does what I say anyway."

"I do no such thing!" Arthur's face became more serious. "I am sorry about what happened before, Alfred. We've been here almost two months now. Can't we go back to being friends?"

He shrugged. "You know I'm more than willing to do that. But I'm not the one you have to apologize to."

"What?"

Alfred pointed to his friends. "First, apologize to Ivan. Then, to my Slytherin friends for what you said about their families."

"You're being stubborn."

"Pot. Kettle. Black. Do y'all use that expression over here?"

"Come on, Arthur, just be nice!" Francis insisted.

"You know what, no! Fuck this git, you think you're tough? Because you've got all your brainless lackeys? I know these pranks were you, and I'm gonna make sure you pay for it! I'm not going to apologize to your league of Voldemort-wannabes, especially since I only ever said the truth!"

The librarian had approached at the noise, so the two Gryffindors departed, Francis holding his friend back before he could do anything rash.

Alfred's friends eyed the boy, expecting him to be upset. Instead, he was humming, sketching celestial paths happily.

"Er, Alfred?" Ivan spoke first.

"What's up?"

"Are you okay?" he continued.

"Of course. Lovino, we have our match Saturday don't we?"

"You're the one who won't shut up about it. First match of the year: Slytherin versus Gryffindor."

"That's good to know, thank you. Will all my favorite fans be there?"

"All my friends are going, so of course," Ivan smiled.

"The whole school usually attends, so I'll be there as well," Kiku said.

"Excellent. You won't wanna miss it." He stood suddenly, packing up his dry papers and carefully carrying the drawing with the wet ink. "I'll catch you guys later. I need to work on other things."

"Don't do anything too crazy, Alfred," Kiku warned. "This is escalating very quickly."

He waved the comment away. "I know. I won't hurt him, and I won't get caught. Otherwise our team would suffer."

He gave a nod in parting and left. No one knew where he was for the rest of that day, only seeing him the next day in class. He seemed much more normal and chipper, even at the early hour. Ivan joined him for his meals and they only parted when Alfred had practice. Nash had extended their practices by an hour in lieu of the first match. They were much more confident, but given the experience of Elizabeta's all-veteran squad, they were smart to be worried. Gryffindor was favored to win, and by a lot.

The morning of the match, Gilbert burst into the common room where the team was meeting for a brief pep talk before breakfast.

"Everyone! I have amazing news!"

Nash stared—on his face easily mistaken as a glare—at the late newcomer. "What is it, Gilbert? I was motivating."

"Wait, that was supposed to be the motivation?" Lovino was pale. "You pretty much told us we were about to get our asses handed to us!"

"Shut up! This is more important! Elizabeta isn't playing!"

The team gasped, all but one. "What?" Antonio asked. "Why? How do you know?"

"Slughorn told Gramps, who told me!"

"What happened?"

"She and Edelstein got busted last night breaking curfew!"

Antonio laughed. "How scandalous! I didn't peg them as the type!"

"It's not the preferred way to win, but hell I'll take it. Who's their backup Seeker?" the captain asked.

Gilbert shook his head. "No idea. I heard they hadn't been training anyone besides the starting seven, though. They'll have no choice but to pick out a first year."

Nash cursed. "Surely they'll go for Matthew."

Alfred finally spoke. "No, they'll choose Arthur. Elizabeta knows by now that what happened was a misunderstanding, so she's got nothing against Arthur. He's been playing Seeker in junior leagues for years. Matthew's just an amateur Chaser, and besides, she still doesn't know that he's been practicing."

"Wait, what about that Yao kid? He played last year but got kicked off for being a bit too rough. They could ask him."

"He's sick," Alfred said simply. The others eyed him oddly. "Hey, he's the one taking all the strange foreign drugs all the time. I heard about it from Kiku."

Gilbert howled with laughter. "Well, well, well. I should've known something was up when I heard that idiot Austrian actually prepared a romantic date for Elizabeta! He'd never treat her to something so lavish or bold!"

Nash raised a brow, but he was also holding back a smile. Hell, Elizabeta was the only Seeker who could match his speed, he'd take the advantage. They were Slytherins, they did what they had to to win.

"How'd you manage this anyway?" Lukas asked.

"Well, it was their anniversary, and Edelstein had forgotten. She was pissed, so I arranged a little picnic. Ivan helped, actually. He's quite the flower arranger. I made sure they stumbled across it together, he on his way back from violin practice and she from her evening run. They almost missed each other, annoyingly enough, but it worked. I gave them their privacy for a few hours, don't worry, but knew that Hagrid would be walking his hippogriff in the area. Setting up the tripping spells was easy enough, and they couldn't get away. Lovely couple, though, you've got your work cut out for you to break them up, Gilbert."

"And Yao?"

"He'll be in bed for a few days," he held up his hand when their eyes widened. "Don't worry, just some very strong munchies-inducing pastries. He's been stuffing his face with Chinese food too much to get on a broom. Now, I did all this for one reason: Arthur is mine. We can't end the game until he falls off his damn broom."

The team was silent, but then they gave a cheer. "Three cheers for Alfred!"

"Our dastardly hero!"

"Salazar himself wouldn't want to mess with this kid!"

With full confidence that they could win, they went off to breakfast, causing a ruckus in the Great Hall with their taunts. The rest of the house joined in, focused intently on jeering a nervous Arthur who was decked out in borrowed gear.

Calling the game a slaughter would not be hyperbolic. Nash held back on securing the snitch if only to allow Alfred his revenge. Sure enough, Arthur did end up receiving a well-aimed bludger to his thigh, throwing him off balance enough that he spun around on his broom and was grounded. Luckily, he was close enough to the ground that he wasn't too badly hurt—Madam Pomfrey diagnosed him with a mild wrist fracture after the game.

It wasn't that Arthur wasn't skilled. In fact, the crowd was quite surprised to see him near the snitch a few times. However, Alfred was so relentless in his pursuit that the Seeker had little room to showcase his talent.

Slytherin's Chasers also proved to be quite adept, Lovino having agreed to extra ball-handling practice with Antonio and Helen—and that's not a euphemism for anything.

In the end Nash took mercy and caught the Snitch, earning the first Slytherin victory since the fall of the Dark Lord, and by a healthy margin of 220 at that. The smallest house made the loudest noise, though even the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students had joined in the celebration. It seemed that Gryffindor's undefeated streak had ended, and they were eager to challenge the underdog Slytherins themselves.

Back in the hall, Alfred was surrounded by grinning friends. Ivan and Kiku had wandered over, and in that moment he felt like the happiest man alive.

"Woo! Now we'll all be in a good mood for initiation!" Gilbert threw his arm around Alfred, a difficult task since a giant, proud Russian had wrapped the younger Beater in a bear hug. Gilbert smooched Ivan's cheek. They both laughed, though Gilbert slinked away when Alfred glared possessively.

"Congratulations, Alfred," Ivan smiled, glancing down at his still-trapped friend. "It was a good win. I'm glad you took advantage of all our hard work!"

"Dude, it was so fun! Did you see how frustrated Arthur was? Ha! He's good though, I'll admit! But, now there's no way we can lose the Cup! Elizabeta won't be back till their final game. And Edelstein plays for Ravenclaw, so they'll be at a disadvantage too. It may be you and I in the cup. Well, your team, obviously, not you."

"Perhaps I've been tricking you the whole time and I am really on my team, da?"

Alfred barked a laugh. "Good one. Hey, Hero's getting a bit lonely. Can he play with Luka?"

"Sure, I don't see why not." Ivan finally freed Alfred from the hold, not that the other minded the extended contact, of course. They waved goodbye to their friends and left for their cats' impromptu playdate.

The next day, while Alfred was enjoying a walk around the lake, Arthur struck. He shot Alfred with a quick slug-vomiting charm, and the Slytherin couldn't even curse the other before he ran away. He was hunched over some bushes, belching up myriad slugs. He trudged back to his dorm, leaving a trail of slimy green creatures, and his friends were quick to pass him a large, unused cauldron.

He wasn't able to speak for another hour and after several emptyings of the pot. When he did, he only needed to spit one word for them to understand.

"Kirkland."

And so the Slytherin Quidditch team became singularly consumed with helping Alfred. Arthur soon realized that he'd made a mistake in retaliating, and Francis too, as he was running away alongside Arthur after their fateful attack.

Quills were cursed, pets enchanted, potions sabotaged and wands replaced with trick wands. There wasn't so much an equal back and forth exchange, either, as Alfred's efforts proved to be more obnoxious than Arthur's easily remedied charms. In addition, Alfred wasn't afraid to hex or curse whereas Arthur and Francis played by the charm books.

Alfred's marks admittedly started slipping, as he was more concerned with bothering any friend of Arthur's than studying. He stopped spending time with Kiku, who didn't' necessarily side with Arthur, but since he didn't side with Alfred either he took it as a slight. Ivan was more often or not found in the library, and since Alfred no longer frequented the spot they saw each other less and less. Very rarely would he offer his help with a prank, as he had befriended an older Gryffindor boy, Kiku's brother Yao, and he didn't want to make any enemies.

The school finally got a break from the feud during winter break. Arthur and Matthew were to go back to London while Francis vacationed in Paris. Alfred was choosing to spend his break in Oklahoma with his basketball team instead of with his family, which had been a tough decision for him but one he made with conviction in the end.

Alfred managed to catch Ivan before leaving on the Hogwarts Express. Both were packed and ready to go, though Ivan wasn't making any movement toward the train platform.

"Hey dude!"

"Ah, hello Alfred. I haven't seen you for a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Congrats on the win!" Hufflepuff had narrowly defeated Ravenclaw a week before. Feliks had made a good showing.

"Thanks. Are you heading out now?"

"Yup. Aren't you? I need to go to London than catch a plane to the states. I'd imagine you'd do the same to get back to Russia?"

"Nyet, my father is coming to pick me up."

"Gotcha. In what?"

"It's a flying boat of sorts."

"Sounds spooky."

Ivan smiled. He had missed Alfred during the other's obsessive phase. Luka was shifting uncomfortably in his arms on seeing Alfred without Hero. Matthew had taken both of the cats onto the train earlier. "Da, it looks haunted. Alfred?"

"Yo."

"I was wondering, when we get back, would you like to spend more time together?"

"Sure!"

"Without plotting so much?"

"Ah, but it's fun!"

"I know, but there's more to life, you know. You have Quidditch to worry about, and your studies. You spend a lot more time with your Slytherin friends because they approve of it..."

"Do you not approve?" He frowned. Unlike with Kiku, who had voiced similar opinions, hearing it from Ivan made Alfred sad, not mad.

"I just think you can cut back on it. It's been so long since the start of this whole thing. I doubt your friends care about what he said. I know I don't, I am used to it."

Alfred huffed. "You shouldn't be used to it! It's the principle of the thing, dude! He is so stuck in the past with all this stuff about bloodedness!"

"Are you not stuck in the past right now?"

He blushed, finding himself outwitted. "Ugh, damn you're smarter than me. Damn Ravenclaw at heart, huh?" he grinned. "Alright, I'll give Arthur a clean slate when we get back. Sound good?"

"Da," Ivan returned the smile with his own. He glanced up, noticing a darkening in the sky. He recognized the large silhouette as his father's method of transportation and sighed. Alfred followed his gaze, eyes widening at the massive structure.

"Sweet baby Jesus that's huge! It's bigger than my house in the States!"

The giant ship cut through the clouds, long oars directing it toward Ivan, who had wisely positioned himself in a clearing.

It coasted to a landing, creaking from the weight. A gangplank dropped down, and out strode an old man, looking almost like a ghost with his pale skin and his fluttering, white robes.

"Привет, отец" (hello, father _)_ Ivan smiled. If Alfred hadn't heard Ivan's own stories as to how insane his father was, he would've thought this a normal meeting.

"Привет, сынок," (junior) the man clapped his hand on Ivan's shoulder. He turned his icy-blue eyes toward Alfred, maintaining his grim expression. But, he sniffed, and his grimace was replaced with a smile. "Is this your friend?" His gruff voice was so accented that Alfred would've struggled to understand him if he wasn't used to Ivan's own accent and speech patterns.

Alfred held out his hand. "Hello, Mr. Braginsky. My name is Alfred Jones! I'm friends with Ivan!"

The man shook his hand politely. Alfred touched the man who killed his mother. The man who drove his father mad. He was smiling at someone who should be his mortal enemy. But, instead of being fearful or angry. He was curious. This one man held so much power. He'd learned from his housemates that he ruled the Death Eaters with an iron fist, matching the Dark Lord's top followers in strength. He was worth getting to know better, in Alfred's opinion. Besides, he was quick to forgive—though only when the other person had something he wanted.

"Nice to meet you. People call me зима, or Winter in your tongue. I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but Ivan never writes home."

"The owls always die from the cold… I tried…"

"No matter. I'm glad you've befriended a dependable Slytherin! They're a good lot! Most of my friends from out this way were in Slytherin. Jones… I don't remember anyone with that name." He turned back to his temporarily forgotten son who was staring, dumbstruck, at Alfred's friendliness. "Where are your manners?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you think to invite Alfred to our home? Boy, where are you going?

"The U.S., sir," Alfred responded.

"That's unfortunate. I'm sure Junior here would have liked to have his friend over. I could show you the grounds and the dungeons."

Ivan pulled at the ends of his scarf. "I didn't think he'd want to."

"Nonsense, are you ashamed of us?"

"It's okay, sir. I probably wouldn't have been able to, honestly. I have family to get to myself."

"Very well. Perhaps some other time." He leered at the boy, seeing in Alfred more than he'd ever seen in his own son. A hunger for power, for victory. He smiled. Alfred held his ground, while Ivan frowned. Winter picked up Ivan's largest bag. "We must leave soon, your mother and Natalya have prepared a lovely banquet. They'd hoped Katyusha would come back this year…" He gave Alfred a nod before heading back into the ship.

"He seems cool."

Ivan sighed. "You're an idiot. He wanted to eat you up."

"Ew, that's illegal."

"Not in that way. Anyway," Ivan pulled Alfred in for a hug. Luka hopped out of his arms, not wishing to be crushed. He bounded up the familiar steps to his room. "I will miss you. I'll bring you something cool from Russia, da? I cannot ship it, as I said our owls all die."

"Ha, well maybe you can…" Alfred gestured to the wooden structure behind them. " _Ship_ it. Eh? Eh? Get it?"

"Why am I friends with you?"

"You love it! And I'll get you something sick too! Don't have too much fun without me." There was a shrill whistle, and Alfred hopped back. "Shit! The train! Bye Ivan! Don't let Luka cheat on Hero, either!"

"Da, of course!" He waved at the boy's back, watching as he sprinted to the platform, his backpack swinging behind him.

After a long train ride spent practicing some minor jinxes with his friends and trying—and failing—to teach them his methods for wandless magic, Alfred was back in London. He caught up to his twin who had spent the trip with Arthur and Francis.

"Yo, bro!" Matthew flinched, but calmed down. One of their last meetings had ended with Matthew getting caught in the crossfire of a particularly fast-acting Knee-Reversal Hex meant for Arthur. Alfred was quick to apologize and use the appropriate Hex-Breaker, but Matthew had since been wary around his brother.

"Hello. When's your ride for the airport coming?"

"Soon, I think. How was Hero?"

"Fine. He's a bit sad." He gestured to the nearby kennel. Alfred bent over so he was face to face with his cat. He would be staying in a series of hotels across Oklahoma so knew he couldn't bring him with him. Hero indeed looked heartbroken.

"Poor guy, he misses his boyfriend." He straightened up and turned to Arthur. "Congratulations, Kirkland. Come next month you'll be off the hook. I won't be pranking you any more, capeesh?"

Arthur raised a brow. "Really? Why the change of heart?"

Alfred shrugged. "It was getting boring, don't you think? If you ever do get caught in a prank, know that I'm doing it against you because you're a rotten Gryffindor, alright? Not because you're your rotten self."

Despite the insult, Arthur smiled slightly. "I'm glad. Then I look forward to seeing you after the break." He held out his hand. "Friends?"

Alfred's hand met the other, and they shook. "For now. Until you fuck it up again."

Matthew tsked. "You'd better clean up your language before you see nana."

"Shit, you're right. Shit. You damn Europeans have corrupted my vibrant and youthful innocence!" Alfred grabbed his cheeks, dragging the skin down. Checking his watch, he jumped up. "Well, I've gotta skedaddle. Catch y'all on the flip side!" And with that, he was gone.

"What the hell did that mean?" Arthur mumbled.

"Context clues, mon lapin. I'd swear you were even worse at reading situations than Alfred!" Francis laughed.

"Whatever, I'm just happy you guys are done fighting," Matthew said.

"Me too, it'll make walking to class not so terror-inducing," Arthur confessed. He waved on recognizing a pair in the distance. "There's my parents. Better get going, Matthew." He glanced at Francis. "See you in a bit, frog."

Francis kissed his cheeks. "Oui, have fun in this disgusting armpit of a city. I'll buy you some less offensive clothes. You two are always free to visit me of course!" They boys exchanged their goodbyes before parting for the holiday.

Many hours later and an ocean away, Alfred was reunited with his friend Juan. While he had made it clear that he was returning to the States, he hadn't divulged to Matthew _why_ he was going home—he paused at the word choice but then realized that he truly didn't feel at home in their quiet, empty flat in London. While Matthew and his dad thought he'd be spending his time in Minnesota, he instead went straight to Oklahoma, immediately unpacking his bags in a hotel with his team and coach before heading to a tournament. He didn't start for the first few games—he was rusty, as his warm-ups and their morning practices showed. Within a week, he was back to normal, however, and he was surprised that his less than frequent exercising at Hogwarts had kept him in okay-enough shape. The second week, the group headed for another tournament an hour away, this one a showcase for nationally-ranked clubs and even colleges. It always amazed Alfred how recruiters started looking at athletes earlier and earlier these days.

Despite rules against talking to muggles about magic, it was during this time that Alfred decided to share with his best friend of many years about his new life. He hated parts of it, being away from home for so long namely, but he also realized it was good for him to embrace this new side of him. Juan delighted in hearing about the pranks and hijinks Al had gotten into. He was a big fan of Ivan and the Slytherin guys, though for some reason mentioning Antonio rubbed him the wrong way.

There was a 24/7 convenience store near the hotel, and Alfred and Juan were loitering, munching on shitty snow cones late at night. They were huddled in an alley, Alfred demonstrating some simple tricks, wand out. He loved that he could get away with such things in the States, the tracking spell only working in Scotland, Ireland, and London on minor students.

He had just unlocked a back door with ease when someone stumbled upon them.

"What the bloody hell…"

Alfred started at the all too familiar accent, but he didn't know the man. The stranger was stuttering. "You're not of age… I need to report you." He pulled out his own wand, and Alfred paled.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ the man's wand flew out of his hand, landing behind a heavy dumpster. He looked around blankly. "Oi, the hell…?"

Luckily for Alfred the man was mildly intoxicated. Unluckily, he had his wits enough to stare at Alfred, memorizing his face.

"Don't they have rules at Ilvernory? I know it's different here in the colonies, but surely you can't be practicing?"

"I… I don't go to Ilvernory. Please, sir, can't you just forget about this? I wasn't doing anything bad."

"I could've been monetarily persuaded, but you're not just some casual wielder. You attacked me!"

"It was a simple disarming!"

"Mi amigo," Juan switched to Spanish. " _This guy looks like a snitch to me. How bad would it be if he reported you?"_

 _"I'd get kicked out of Hogwarts! They'd take my wand!"_

 _"Is that all that bad? I thought you weren't happy?"_

 _"Well, it could be better. But I… I just need to be there, you know? It gives me opportunities I don't have here."_ He cleared his throat. "Sir, surely there's something I can do to persuade you?"

The man eyed the two young boys. He got a wicked grin. "Yes, I suppose there's something you can do for me." He fumbled with his belt.

" _What the fuck, I ain't doing that Al!"_ Juan too was pale. They were cornered.

" _Shit… shit! Fuck!_ Dude!"

The man chuckled. "If you want to keep your wand, boy, you'd best take care of mine," he stroked himself, though the alcohol was making his efforts more difficult. Despite his previous sluggishness, he was quick to grab the nearest boy to him, which was Juan.

" _Fuck, Alfred! I may be gay but I am not down for this_!" Juan struggled against the drunken man.

" _What? You're gay?"_ Alfred pointed his wand. He had a hard time getting a good aim as Juan was giving the other a difficult time staying still.

" _Not the time for my coming out story! Just fucking get him!"_

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Alfred yelled. There was a flash, and the man was stiff as a board. He fell over with a grunt.

"Fuck's sake," Juan picked himself up, spitting on the man. "Well, what do we do now?"

The man struggled, but without his wand he couldn't break the curse. "Doesn't matter. I'll remember you and report you the second I get my wand!"

Alfred was solemn. "Shit, this is bad. Why me? Why'd a damn British wizard have to be in the middle of bumfuck Oklahoma right now?"

"Norman's a thriving metropolis! Why, I read a brochure that—"

"Not the damn time! Fuck..." He glanced at the man. "He's not drunk enough. I don't know what to do!"

"Can't you like, alter his memories? Or something?"

"Oh, I can!" Alfred remembered the spell. The man's physical will was strong, as he was already able to move his arm. Much to Alfred's disgust, he started touching himself, making eye contact all the while.

"Jesus, he's a sick old man. What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" Juan asked.

"I was on too many lists back home. Should've gone out here sooner, it's easier in America. No one cares so much what I do. So many forgotten children." He was panting, but his body refused to match his mental arousal.

Juan shook his head. "Pathetic. If I grew up as my mom did, I'd gut you right here and now. Pervert." He turned to Alfred. "I changed my mind. This dude tried to shove his fucking _pollo_ down my mouth. I don't care what you do to him."

"What? Oh…" Alfred stared at his wand. He weighed his options. He could use the Memory Charm, but then the guy would just be back on the streets, hurting children in monstrous ways. He couldn't have that. But, he also couldn't turn him into the muggle police, because then when he started raving about the boy wizard in the alley who was turning him in, wizarding authorities would catch wind. He was in a pickle. There was a voice at the back of his mind.

 _You know what to do. You know the curse. You practiced it, remember?_ It seemed to hiss. Alfred shivered, remembering the sight of dead squirrels he'd practiced on during his private trips to the lake.

He leveled his wand at the man. The curse was quiet, the man didn't even hear it before it struck him in the chest. He slumped over, his dead eyes staring as the green light faded. Alfred stood strong, but before long he fell himself, shaking.

"Fuck, you killed him?" Juan kicked the man's stomach. "Alright, time for my years of watching Criminal Minds to get to work. Can they track your magic from him?"

"No. Curses are very unstable magic. By the time authorities come it will have dissipated too much. Plus, I'm a minor so my signature wouldn't be recognized out here anyway."

"What would a muggle autopsy show?"

"Heart failure, from what I've read."

Juan nodded. He walked to the side of the dumpster and picked up the wand, making sure to cover his hand with a discarded newspaper first. He placed it in the man's inside pocket. "Alright… let me think. This looks as if a drunk, old man wandered here to jack off. He had a heart attack. That's that. Based on the clothes, he's a drifter. He came out here to avoid authorities so he probably doesn't have any friends." He moved to Alfred's side, helping the other up. "I take it this is your first kill?"

He blanched. Juan evacuated him from the scene quickly. It wouldn't do if Alfred vomited all over the body. "What do you mean? Of course it is!"

"I remember mine…" Juan was attempting to lighten the mood, but it only made Alfred more nervous.

"Dude, are you being serious?"

"A lot happened while you were gone. My babysitter… he was like this guy. But he actually did things. I couldn't tell anyone. I… I thought I deserved it for being gay. My family, you know, they're very Catholic. I thought I was being punished.

"I found some friends, they were in a gang. I was lonely without you, you always fought my bullies. But I could fight this time. They gave me what I needed and I cornered him one day. It was quick, he didn't even see me."

"Juan… I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "It's okay. It's over now."

"I don't care that you're gay. And you didn't deserve that. That guy, though, both the sitter and Mr. Alleyway. They did deserve what they got."

Alfred was walking on his own now, and Juan eyed the slightly younger boy. "You've changed since you've been gone."

"So have you."

"Both for the better?"

"I think so," Alfred smiled. "We should head back to the room, get our alibi just in case."

"Ah, did you watch those seasons of CSI I got you?"

"No, idiot, I've been in England. Holmes is more the style."

"Damn that genius. You should at least give American shows a chance!"

Alfred laughed, and the pair quickly returned to their room. Their friends were asleep by the time they returned, and they shared one last look, a visual vow of silence.

The next week they were gone from Norman, traveling to the next city over. No one cared about the man who died. He'd been a squatter with a rap sheet a mile long. Foul play wasn't suspected, and thus he was cremated without the wizarding authorities knowing of the circumstances, only knowing that one of their more troublesome predators was gone. Nobody minded it one bit.

Juan opened up more about the sadder parts of his years without Alfred, and he was shocked by the news. Initiation into his gag had been a particularly violent time, but he made it through. He thought that when they found out he was gay they'd turn him out, but they didn't. He had found a loving family in them. Alfred and Juan had both been forced to grow up too quick, and both were damaged because of it. Alfred in turn told him more about his own struggles. He confessed to his mild—or extreme—interest in the dark arts and Ivan's father, explaining that he wanted to learn from the man who killed his mother.

Juan never judged him, never advised him, only listened. Alfred was happy during break, happy playing the sport he loved with his best friend who he—

Loved?

No, that couldn't be right. Well, perhaps platonically, sure. But, once the thought of anything more got in his head, Alfred couldn't hide his blush when his friend would change around him, a common occurrence since they always shared a space in the hotel and the locker room.

When it was time for Alfred to leave, his coach drove the pair to the airport so Juan could say goodbye. The boys high-fived and hugged, as always, but on pulling away, Juan was halted slightly. He raised a brow at Alfred, who had ensnared him with his strong arms, and then Alfred touched their lips together.

Juan was shocked, and Alfred saw his expression and blushed. He stammered out a goodbye before turning and running from the scene, not looking back.

"Alfred, wait!" Juan yelled.

He didn't look back.

Back in London, Matthew and Arthur met him at the airport. Arthur's parents drove him home, and Alfred was surprisingly quiet the whole drive. When Matthew asked if he'd been able to see Juan, Alfred winced, so he didn't talk about it again.

Inside, Alfred was questioning everything about himself. Not just about who he liked, though that too was prominent. He was only weeks removed from ending one's life. He had spent the better part of the last few months engaging in dark magic, actively seeking it out as well. Who was he? What did he want to be?

One day when Arthur was reading the paper, Alfred figured it out. There'd been a string of murders of ex-Death Eaters in London lately, recently cleared as they hadn't been active in years. Arthur usually would've said "good riddance", but he held his tongue on remembering Alfred's friends. They had been killed in cruel ways, dark marks slashed with a curse and left to bleed out.

Alfred had killed a man for hurting the innocent, and he would do it again. If he had the power right now, he wouldn't stop till this murderer was dead for killing those proclaimed innocent by law. Being a hero wasn't all sunshine and lollipops, after all. Sometimes you had to walk the line between good and evil, you had to exist in the grey. He knew this, and he wanted it. To be a hero, he'd have to be strong, and he was willing to pay whatever he had to to get the power he'd need.

Back on campus, Alfred seemed his old, charismatic self. He gave Ivan a tacky trinket from Oklahoma as well as an American flag shirt, but he also brought a more serious gift in the form of a sunflower pin which took up permanent residence on Ivan's scarf. Ivan gifted Alfred with his numerous knitting projects as well as an enchanted and enlarged snowflake that never melted. Alfred was friendly with everyone, it seemed, no longer thriving on fighting with his rivals. He studied often again, and practiced his Quidditch as much as he practiced his own dueling.

He worked hard in DADA if only to get on Malfoy's good side, which seemed to work. To solidify their friendship, he pretended to be interested in becoming a Healer so asked about recommended classes. From that point on Malfoy's words flowed. He had admittedly been rather lonely without his friends both old and new, so the thought anyone listening to him, no matter how young, was appealing to him. He told Alfred of his years as enemies with Harry Potter, whose name was either uttered with a harsh " _Potter_ " or a smiling "Harry", though when Alfred subtly asked about anything pertaining to the Dark Lord, he would go silent and sigh. Alfred was quick to change the subject, asking for some help with Potions work so that Malfoy wouldn't get too suspicious of his true motives. In addition to learning a bit about the way things used to be, Alfred also learned how to brew a proper Cure for Boils, much to his partner Ivan's delight as they had both been struggling with the class.

The week of the third game, Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, Alfred received a letter. He didn't often get mail: his father was too sick and his grandparents too busy to write outside of birthdays and holidays, so he was surprised. The only thing he'd ever received during the breakfast mail rush was his new broom and other clothes he ordered. It was from Juan's address, and he blushed. He'd been avoiding that particular problem as he didn't want to deal with it. It was something he didn't mind bottling up in lieu of focusing on his goals.

He found a quiet, secluded booth and tore into the envelope. The letter itself left him undone, and he missed his first class of the year. Ivan eventually found him, staring blankly while the letter, crinkly from the dried tears, lay in his lap.

"Alfred?" Ivan approached, Alfred didn't move. Ivan waved his hand in front of the other's face. "Are you okay?"

He turned toward his tall friend and shook his head.

"Is it the letter? Can I read it?"

Alfred shrugged.

Ivan picked it up and read. His eyes widened, and he fell next to Alfred, throwing his arms around the other. This only initiated another round of tears from the young blond. All Ivan could do was sit there, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Will you write him back? What will you do?"

"I don't know."

Matthew and Arthur found the pair in that position, and Matthew ran to his twin.

"Al! What's happened?"

He pulled away from Ivan's chest, face red as he met his brother's eye. "Juan's brother. He was killed in a gang fight. Juan was hurt too. The authorities did some investigating, and now Juan and his mother are being deported. He doesn't know what's gonna happen. What if I never see him again?"

"Oh, Al," Matthew took a seat on Alfred's other side. "You may be okay. He was born here—er, in the U.S.—wasn't he?"

"He doesn't know if that even matters. There's so much going on about that stuff I don't understand. Either way, his mom won't get out of it. Plus, Juan's wanted. He killed people in that fight. After his brother was killed… I don't know what's gonna happen to him. He's a minor, but still."

Matthew didn't know what to say, so he only held his brother tighter.

After several silent minutes, Alfred sighed. "Thank you, you guys. I… I need to think for a bit." They released him, and he trudged down the hall to the nearest exit.

Once alone, his sadness gave way to rage. He cursed the sky, the sun, himself. How dare the sky and sun shine when families were torn apart? How dare he stand there pathetically while his friend's life was uprooted? He hated it all. It wasn't fair. He thought he'd wanted power, thought that hurting bullies would fix things, but no matter what, there would always be forces bigger than him, bigger bullies with money and strength. He was an idiot to think that he, a kid, could make a difference. The Dark Lord… sure, he'd lost, but he'd amassed such a following. He could've fixed things—not in his way of course, Alfred knew he was an evil man with outdated ideas about muggles and muggle-borns. But instead, he was so mad and corrupted that he made things worse. He abused his power, catalyzed not positive change but an unnecessary war.

What would Alfred do in that situation? If the Minister, the President, or people like that listened to him? Or, better yet, if he was them? Surely then things would be better?

He had to get to the very top.

He had to change things, these things that shouldn't happen.

And if anyone tried to stop him, there'd be hell to pay.

* * *

 **A/n: yay another chapter! look at our lovely alfred, going crazy. also, i'm gonna be kinda speeding up the timeline, as i don't feel comfortable writing 11 year olds. First, i wouldn't want them doing anything too sexual and i also am so far removed from being 11 that i don't feel as if i write them well at this age. Obvi Alfred is a bit more mature, like he said, he 'had to grow up quicker'.**

 **anyway, my original write ended a lot darker with character death and i wasn't feeling it. didn't want him going too crazy so early when he has more years at hogwarts you know? anyway, thanks for supporting! i'm upping the rating for language, FYI. Now that we're dropping f bombs all over the place and whatnot!**


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred was in a somber mood in the weeks after receiving the letter. Everyone noticed it, but only a few were brave enough to talk to him during his mourning period. Among those were Matthew, Ivan, and Emil. The others had seen him pensive in the past and knew it meant he was plotting, and so they were too afraid to disturb him.

Slytherin defeated Ravenclaw soundly that year. Alfred was so focused on winning that the enemy chasers spent the whole game avoiding his jostles and hits and couldn't even score a point. Hufflepuff fell to them in a similar fashion, though they managed to beat Gryffindor by a substantial lead. Ravenclaw barely lost to Gryffindor, so in the end Slytherin won, followed by Hufflepuff then Gryffindor then Ravenclaw.

Alfred didn't attend the celebration, choosing books over butterbeer. His teammates thought nothing of it, as he'd been less fun to be around lately, though they didn't know why.

Alfred ended the semester with a Quidditch cup, superior marks, and even the house cup, Slytherin's first in ages. He was on good terms with everyone and all the professors adored him for his work ethic.

He barely even noticed the numerous lauds. Instead of remembering the glories, the nights spent bonding with his house mates, he remembered every word of the ninety-five letters he'd sent to Juan. To repay his dedication, each letter was returned, unopened and rejected by the government office working their case. Alfred wished he could curse a letter, send them a Howler or something, but he knew in this situation he had to use his brain, not his brawn.

Come summertime, Alfred stopped by to visit his father before heading the States once more.

The man was as he usually was, staring at nothing in particular while lying in bed. A nurse greeted him.

"Alfred! It's been a while since we've seen you. Your brother was here every day during the winter."

He smiled. "Yeah, I've been traveling a bit. How is he?"

"He's been better. But!" Again she beamed. "I'm sure seeing you will be great for him! I'll leave you two alone, now. You know where to find me!" She vanished through the door, and Alfred turned to his father.

He'd grown up idolizing this man. He wanted to follow in his footsteps. His parents had been his heroes.

But they lost.

They were weak. It didn't matter if you fought for what was right if you couldn't win and see it for yourself, did it? His friends, they had parents that fought for Voldemort. In the end they lived to see another day, lived to fight on in their own ways, lived to love their children properly. Wasn't that important to his parents? Didn't they think of the danger? Of how abandoned their children would feel?

He sat beside his father, nudging his shoulder gently.

He turned and smiled. "Francine! You're home!"

Alfred frowned. He knew he had his mother's eyes, but most people said he looked just like his father. Matthew took after Francine much more with his softer and darker tresses and big eyes.

"It's not Francine, father, it's Alfred, your son."

"Who?"

"That's Matthew."

"Ah! Where is my Matthew?"

"He's in Paris."

"And his brother?"

"I'm right here."

Franklin hummed. Alfred sighed _. At least he wasn't thrashing or yelling_ , he thought.

"Francine!"

Alfred sighed again. He hated talking to his father this way. Nothing ever came of it, and it only made him lose hope each time realizing that his father was as gone from this world as his mother. "Yes?" he humored the man.

"Did you know Matthew made it to Gryffindor?"

He smiled. Well, that was a pleasant surprise that he'd remember something Matthew told him months ago. "Of course he did."

"And Alfred followed after! I'm so proud. They always were inseparable."

"Gryffindor? But, he's in Slytherin."

Franklin laughed. "Alfred? My boy? No way. He's always wanted to be like us. Matthew told me he was in Gryffindor. Do you think my own son would lie to me?"

 _Apparently so_. "Of course not. Though I'm sure Alfred would be happy in Slytherin."

"Tch, if he was a Slytherin he'd be no son of mine."

Alfred glared. "How can you say that? It's just a house."

"You were always the same way, you know! You wouldn't invite any Slytherin to our wedding. You said you'd disown our kids if they were in that house."

That was certainly not something Alfred had ever remembered hearing his mother say, though to be fair, he only spent four years with his mother and then for the next five saw her only twelve days out the year.

"Francine!" Franklin gave a dopey grin. "Welcome back! How was the store?"

"Same old, same old." Alfred stood, no longer wishing to be in the room that smelled like sleep covered with bleach. "I forgot something."

"Always had a terrible memory, didn't you!" His eyes followed Alfred's back. He screamed.

Alfred turned, immediately at the man's side. He was twisting in his bed, magical restraints already appearing to help Alfred hold him down. He was crying.

"Winter! Stop! Don't hurt him anymore!"

Alfred raised a brow. "Him? Who is he hurting?"

"He's just a boy! You monster!" His eyes met Alfred's and he gasped. "Winter! How did you get here?"

Alfred backed away, recognizing sheer hatred in his father's eyes. "I'm not him! Dad, it's me, Alfred!" His back struck the wall. A nurse came in, injecting a sedative in the IV. Franklin immediately calmed down, falling asleep quickly.

The nurse touched Alfred's arm gently. He flinched away. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I'll get a Healer to check on him. He was doing so well these past few weeks. He was taking his pills all on his own and everything. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you." His voice indicated otherwise. Without glancing back, he left, ignoring the waves of the Healers who knew him well. Outside, he walked toward his flat, promptly depositing himself on the couch. He turned on the TV and his gaming system, settling into his mindless shooting game. He played for hours, only pausing to grab some snacks.

Later in the night, the house phone rang. He ignored it, too wrapped up in his mission to care. When it rang a second time, he stood up begrudgingly to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" it was the nurse from before. "Is Matthew or Alfred there? This is St. Mungo's."

"Just Alfred."

"Alright. There's been a problem. You need to come to the hospital."

"Why?"

"Your father's tried to kill himself."

Alfred gripped the phone tightly, nearly breaking it.

"Hello? Alfred?"

"Is he awake? What happened?"

"He's stable right now, asleep. It may be best if you came in so we could explain."

He hung up before finding his shoes and walking out. He kept a relatively slow pace, all things considered. In half an hour he was on the scene, the afterhours guard letting him in when he pressed the door buzzer.

In his father's room was one healer, a man who'd been with Franklin since he first came to the hospital. He was waving his wand over the man's contorted face when he noticed Alfred.

"Hello. I'm sure this is hard for you. Please, let's speak in my office." He stored his wand and led Alfred down the hall.

His office was cramped but tidy. He always had been pragmatic, so he got straight to the point.

"Your father has been hoarding his painkillers. He took them all at once an hour ago. In addition, he'd nicked someone's wand and managed to jinx the door shut, it took us a long time to get to him. He wasn't permanently hurt, but we fear that he is worsening. After you left, he was crying for a long time. He may be remembering very unpleasant things."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Why do I need to be here? Can't you guys deal with this?"

"Well, of course. It is part of our services. However, we felt it best to tell you that he's suicidal and may be less receptive to our efforts to help."

"So what? You'll stop helping him?"

"Of course not, it is against our code to abandon a patient."

Alfred stood. "You could've told me this over the phone." He left, slamming the door shut behind him.

He was back, facing his father. The man was waking, glancing about the room. He met Alfred's eye.

"Francine!"

"Don't say her name. You're not worthy."

Franklin seemed to shrink.

"You're pathetic. You couldn't save your wife, you couldn't save anyone. You two didn't even make a difference in the war. The ones you fought in Russia were barely aiding the Dark Lord."

"It's Voldemort!" he spat. "Only the Death Eaters call him the Dark Lord."

"It has a nice ring to it."

"Alfred." He spoke clearly. "How dare you raise your voice to me!"

"How dare you try to kill yourself! Could you imagine what Mattie would do if you had succeeded? What your parents would say? Why are you so pathetic? Why did I admire you so much?!"

Franklin froze, his statuesque pose ruined by the flowing tears. "Alfred. Stop saying these things."

"Shut it. I'm disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't take this pain. I'm so miserable. You don't understand the things I saw."

"I'm not disappointed that you tried. I'm disappointed that you failed," Alfred spat. He turned from the man who had been his idol, stopping in the doorway. For once, he glanced back. Franklin was grinning as he followed a dust speck in the air. He waved.

"Hello Francine! How was the store?"

Alfred left then. It was his full intent to never see his father again, so disgusted was he with the other's sham of an existence.

Within an hour of the phone call, Alfred was back in his house, playing video games and eating junk food as if nothing had happened.

As far as he was concerned, nothing had.

He passed a week in London, answering calls from the hospital but never returning. They reported that Franklin was back to normal, not remembering his episode at all. He always thanked them politely before hanging up.

Finally, the time came for Alfred to fly to the U.S. On landing, he picked up his bags and waited at the curb for his grandparents. His grandma—he honestly doesn't know how she still had her license—pulled her pick-up onto the curb, narrowly avoiding a trash can. He threw his bag into the trunk then hopped in the front. While the trash can had avoided his nana, Alfred couldn't save himself from the sloppy kiss to the cheek.

Life in Minnesota was simple those days. Alfred ventured out only to check Juan's house—foreclosed—or any office that may have information—none did. Apparently he and his mother had been transferred a few times, though his mother was reported as being in California.

One day while his grandparents were at church, there was a knock on the door. Alfred thought it an odd time for visitors, but answered anyway.

"Hey, Alfred."

Alfred's eyes were wide. After several seconds of gaping, he jumped on his friend.

"Juan!"

He laughed. "Good to see you too!"

"When did you…? How…? What happened? Where have you…?"

Juan couldn't lift the taller boy off of him, but Alfred quickly realized he was being cumbersome. He rolled off, helping Juan to his feet. "Let's get inside."

An hour and many tears on the part of Alfred later, Juan had told his tale. When he and his mother were despairing, a skilled lawyer specializing in juvenile immigration cases arrived, making quick work of Juan's case. He was still working with authorities on keeping his mother in the States, but Juan had high hopes. Alfred refused to let the other go through the whole story, sending up prayers and thanks to a God he didn't believe in.

"This is amazing. So, where are you gonna live? Who's paying for the lawyer fees? We can help you, you know. You've always been like family to us."

"Actually, someone's taking care of it. Some weird name I can't remember. Brewski or something."

Alfred started. "Braginsky?"

"Yeah, that's it. The Lawyer dude said he was sent for by some guy named Winter or something weird like that."

"That's Ivan's dad. Dude, that's crazy. How would he know? Ivan must have told him."

"That's… very generous of him! Wow, I have to thank him somehow."

"I can relay the message. You need to get back to basketball, don't you?"

"Si, I do. Are you heading to Florida for the college camp?"

"You bet! Can you? I mean…"

"Yeah, the coach can sign for me."

"I'm really sorry that your mom is still in there."

"Me too. But, I was lucky that I got to see her. To say goodbye. She was honestly just happy I was safe. And with that lawyer dude, there's no chance I could go back. At least not till I'm 18 and only if I get caught doing something."

"Are you… gonna quit the gang?"

"I… haven't decided."

"How's it been since… you know?" Alfred wasn't sure how best to refer to the death of Juan's brother.

"It was made easier since he was being such an idiot. He started the whole fight in the first place." He smiled. "I'm at peace. He was kind of a dick. Didn't deserve it, of course. My mom took it harder. She begged me not to go back to gang."

"I can't say I disagree with her worry. Why can't you spend more time with the basketball guys if you're lonely?"

"I don't know, we just don't click. They're all just a bunch of spoiled rich kids. They're all gonna go on to play basketball in college, and I don't know if I can. I knew I'd have to work to support my family. I couldn't leave them behind."

Alfred nodded. He knew he was just as rich and spoiled, perhaps more so. But still, Juan trusted him. He couldn't imagine not going to college, not getting a good job. All his life his family was supporting him. If he failed, someone was there to catch him, or at least his money was.

Juan continued. "But then again, now I may not have a family to support. But, who knows how I'll get into any schools anyway. I'm not that smart, and even though I'm good at basketball, I'm probably not _that_ good."

"Well, I'd say 'just study and work hard!', but given the present situation, I know that may or may not solve your problems. I'll be here for you, regardless."

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Not bad for another spoiled, white boy eh?"

"Oh shut it." Juan smiled down at Alfred, who was too snuggled up against him to notice. "Wanna play some video games?"

"Hell yeah!"

When Alfred's grandparents returned, they were delighted to see Juan back safe and sound. They of course offered him a place to stay but he said that he was already moved into one of his cousin's place—later that night he assured Alfred that the other boy wasn't in any gang.

Juan spent that night and the next with Alfred, both of them having no qualms sharing a bed. They didn't mention the kiss, as it seemed so minuscule in importance compared to what had happened in their lives. Still, one night when they were watching scary movies, Juan reached out and held Alfred's hand in his own to comfort the shaking boy. Alfred tried to catch his eye, but a red-faced Juan refused to turn his head.

With their teammates in Florida, they were less intimate. Most teams that arrived at the camp together were separated into new units, so they didn't see each other much outside of the dorms. Following the camp was another tournament, this one in Louisiana, and Alfred's team kept up a similar routine to their travels during winter break.

Juan attracted the eye of some recruiters who jotted down his info, promising to keep their eyes on him when he went to other tournaments. Alfred too garnered some attention, though his status as an international student was off-putting to some, as they thought he'd prefer to go professional immediately after high school in the European leagues rather than play four years of college and not get paid.

Alfred and Juan spent their last month of vacation in Minnesota, acting out a monotonous but welcome routine. Juan's classes started a few weeks before Alfred's, so on the days when Juan was in school, Alfred was in his room studying spells and catching up on summer readings. After class, they'd meet at the neighborhood court and play any challengers.

It was a blissful and idyllic time, and Alfred wasn't ready to leave Juan. Still the day finally came when they were parted. After months of tiptoeing around the subject, Alfred finally brought it up on their last night together.

"So, Juan."

"What's up?"

"Uh, do you wanna talk about what happened?"

"You mean when I broke your ankles earlier today?"

"Not that crossover, don't remind me. I mean over winter break. I kissed you, if you remember."

"Of course," Juan smiled. "You stole my first real kiss, you bitch."

Alfred blushed. "I'm sorry—"

"Shut up. I don't mind. I wasn't sure what you meant by it, honestly. I was so afraid that you'd hate me for being gay that I didn't even consider that you may… _like_ me. Do you?"

Alfred shrugged. "I mean… yeah, I do."

"Cool, I like myself too."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Dude, be serious."

"I am serious! I'm great, and you think so too."

"I suppose I do." Alfred finally glanced up. Juan's face was extremely close to his own. Their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss, and they fell asleep together, bodies entwined.

Alfred was stilling reveling in the kiss and confession when he met up with his brother, Arthur, and Francis at the station in London.

"Oh la la! Alfred wears the face of one in love, non?" Francis noticed the boy's goofy smile first.

"Shut it, you think everyone's in love," Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Al!" Matthew hugged his brother. Hero whined from his kennel at the sight of his owner.

Alfred returned the hug happily. "Hey dudes! Well, for once, Francis is right! I have awesome news!"

"What?" Matthew asked, voice barely audible against Alfred's chest.

"Juan is back! He didn't get deported, and he really thinks his mom will be okay, too. He was able to talk to her on the phone and everything."

"And?" Francis asked, more interested in the love bit of the story.

"I guess we're like… together, or whatever," Alfred released his brother to rub the back of his head.

"Oh! That's great, Al!" Matthew reinitiated the hug, gripping Alfred tightly. "I'm so happy for you! And that he's still here, I always liked him!"

"Ah, young love! It is beautiful, just like us, non?" Francis wrapped his arm around Arthur.

Alfred laughed. "So, you too finally together?"

Arthur pushed against Francis, red in the face. "Don't be ridiculous! Unlike the rest of this school I'm no homosexual!" He turned to Alfred, face turning brighter. "I don't have a problem with it, of course. That's great, Jones. I'm quite happy for you and Juan. I had no idea you were interested in men, to be honest."

Alfred shrugged. "Me either. But, with Juan it just makes sense, I guess."

"So romantique!"

"Maple! We need to get on the train!" Matthew yelled on noticing the clock. The boys passed through the enchanted pillar, entering a bustling Platform 9 and ¾. Soon they were on the train, looking out the windows at tearful first-years parting with their families.

After the train started, Alfred carried a sassy Hero—the cat had covered Alfred's arms and face with scratches as punishment for abandoning him but was now napping contentedly in his arms—down the hall. He was intent on finding Ivan, hopeful that the other was taking the train and not his father's ship.

After passing several of his housemates and talking with them for a few minutes, he finally found a trembling Toris.

"Hey, you're Ivan's friend right?"

"Eep!"

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you!" he held up his free hand as a show of peace. Hero's teeth-baring didn't speak well to his claim. "I'm just looking for the guy, have you seen him?"

The boy was still trembling. "I think he's busy… er… occupied with his sister."

"Ah, Katyusha?"

"No, his younger sister. She's come to Hogwarts this year!" The boy seemed ready to faint. "They're in the last compartment. It'd be wise to stay away, she's already kicked me and a few others out."

Alfred ignored the warning. With a quick nod he brushed past Toris. He had yet to have a conversation with him free from wide eyes and shivering. He couldn't blame him, last year one of Gilbert's pranks had left him with a sprained wrist and ankle, so he was wary around Slytherins. Plus, he didn't even know how Alfred had personally sabotaged him in class when he was jealous of the time he got to spend with Ivan.

He eventually found the compartment where Ivan was staying, based on the high-pitched screams that he recognized from his friend and an onslaught of Russian words.

Being the hero, he slid open the door, ready for anything, a tied-up Ivan, a crazy sister with knife against his throat. He'd never admit that he held up his poor, squirming feline as a sort of shield—he remembered the stories about how insane young Natalya was.

So he was quite disappointed to see a girl with beautiful hair and an unassuming air. Sure, she was a bit close to Ivan, her grip on his arm making him clearly uncomfortable, but what young sibling wouldn't be nervous with their debut and cling to a sibling if they could?

"Alfred!" Ivan's cry sounded relieved. "Please help me!"

"Nyet, big brother. You can't leave me! And why won't you introduce me to your friend?"

Alfred plopped down on the opposite bench, depositing Hero near Luka, who had been dozing despite the noise. Hero was quick to lick the other cat into a more conscious state.

"Howdy! Name's Alfred F. Jones! You must be Natalya?" he graced the train with his award-winning smile—no really, in addition to being best three-point shooter, he was voted best smile by his teammates almost every year at their club banquets.

The girl shifted slightly, her cheeks pinking prettily. Ivan was shocked. Sure, he'd been taken by the smile when he'd first met Alfred, exactly one year ago; but Natalya had never given a man other than him the time of day.

"Hello," she nodded politely, extending her dainty hand to be held in his much larger one. "It is nice to meet you. Vanya's talked a lot about you."

"Vanya?" Alfred smirked, chancing a look at his friend. The Russian bristled at the look, knowing he'd be receiving a lot of shit from the other in the future for the nickname. "All good things, I hope?"

"Oh of course. I am happy that you have taken good care of big brother. I hope you will extend the kindness to me this year." Ivan's mouth could only open further were his jaw to become unhinged. He met Alfred's eyes and the blonde laughed at the expression. Ivan wasn't sure if he should feel happy that Natalya's grip had loosened in lieu of scooting forward toward his friend, fearful for Alfred's future well-being, or jealous that the one constant source of admiration he'd had in his life was shifting her attention to another. He stiffened—not that he liked her brother complex, far from it. It was all just rather complicated at the moment, he reassured himself. It's not as if he'd ever give into Natalya's demands that he marry her, even if it wasn't morally and legally offensive.

"Not a problem at all, Nat! I'd be happy to show you around. What house are you shooting for?"

For the past month, all Natalya would talk about was Hufflepuff, asking about sleeping arrangements so that she could plan how to sneak into Ivan's bed at night.

"Slytherin," she replied.

Of course, that house was much more fitting to her personality, Ivan thought. Still, for years she'd followed her brother, and within minutes she flip-flops her plans entirely? He truly feared for Alfred.

"Excellent! It's a good house, ignore all those mean stereotypes! Are you sure you'll be fine without Ivan? I see him a lot because we have classes together, but you probably won't besides at meals."

She waved her hand, "I will of course make time for big brother, but I would also like to meet new people."

For the rest of the ride, Alfred remained with the pair, divulging all the intricate details of life at Hogwarts to Natalya. Her brother had of course told her all about the houses, the classes, the grounds, but she was still enraptured by Alfred's telling.

When Alfred spoke, his enthusiasm was contagious. She truly felt as if she were the center of his world for a moment, the way he sought to earn a smile or laugh with silly jokes or expressions. Ivan had never been like that with her. He only ever cowered when she tried to talk to him. She would have pouted had Alfred not made such a funny face.

She laughed, fully and unabashedly.

Ivan was imagining the speech he'd make at Alfred's funeral.

Eventually, Natalya herself broke through Alfred's constant chatter with her own words. Ivan was quite surprised. She rarely opened up so quickly, and their conversations rarely lasted more than five minutes before she went crazy. But, there she was, talking about friends she had back home and her own experimentation with curses. He had no idea she was interested in things other than him, to be honest.

She left when they neared the grounds, saying that she wished to change into robes and speak with their sister. Alfred waved her off, smiling softly. Ivan was quick to shut the door behind her.

"Dude, Natalya's nice! You made it sound like she'd be insane!"

"Alfred, I implore you, stay away from my sister. I fear her affections for me may be falling onto you. She's never like this!"

"Aw, are you jealous that your sister likes me?" he stretched his legs, settling them next to Ivan's lap while placing hands behind his head. "Don't worry, I'll let her down easy."

"That's the thing, you cannot let her down. She won't give up on you!"

"She gave up on you just now, didn't she? She's so into me!" he laughed.

Ivan huffed. "Well, if you're not going to take my advice, then I won't help you. I look forward to having you as my brother-in-law."

"Dude, I'm not interested! I'm kind of seeing anyone, anyways," he blushed.

Ivan's eyes widened. This was news to him. "For her sake, I hope she doesn't go here."

"Nah, they're back home. Oh yeah! Speaking of that!" He scooted his cat from his lap, hopping over to Ivan's side quickly, enveloping the larger boy in a bone-crushing hug. "Thanks so much for helping with Juan! I don't know how your dad managed it, but he was able to come home!"

Ivan blushed. He was hoping that his meddling would remain anonymous. It was a very generous gift, one that the average friend wouldn't give to another. His father had had his suspicions when Ivan asked for the favor, but since the man had taken a liking to Alfred, he contacted his friends in the States.

Ivan too had taken a liking to Alfred.

Alright, maybe it was more than a _lik_ ing.

A summer of training had done wonders for the boy's strength. He would surely be an even greater force on the pitch in the upcoming year. It had been many months since they'd been alone, even more since Alfred had smiled so freely. Ivan had hated seeing the other in his dismal mood, and he knew that the only way to bring back his friend from his misery was to save Juan.

"You're totally my hero, dude!" Alfred gushed.

Ivan felt elated. Knowing how the other felt about superheroes with his comic book obsession, he knew the compliment wouldn't be given lightly.

He patted Alfred's shoulder. The blush would not leave his face, and he was very happy that his friend couldn't currently see his reddened cheeks. He wasn't sure when this newfound attraction for Alfred had sprang up. He blamed his changing hormones for the numerous difficult and frustrating dreams he had to deal with over the summer. Calming himself down, he returned Alfred's hug with affection of his own. What did it matter that Alfred was seeing someone? They were miles away, Ivan would have no problem. And it wasn't as if Natalya presented any competition, either. He was sure with a few kind words she would be back on his side, completely over Alfred and his irresistible smile, his kind words, his cunning brain, his…

Ivan took a deep breath. He needed to focus, not give into temptations. Oh, it would be easy to claim Alfred as his own. Alfred wasn't the only one who'd solidified his position as someone not to fuck with the previous year. Everyone knew of Ivan's terrifying glares and was smart to keep away when he was angry. A few well-timed curses and Alfred would be friendless, having no choice but to run to Ivan's side.

The only problem with his brilliant plan was Alfred's extreme hetero tendencies. But, Ivan was convinced that Alfred could be persuaded to allow their friendship to become something much more intimate. The boy would probably be too inexperienced with matters of the heart to notice when Ivan would sit too close or touch too often. He nodded to himself. Everything would work out in his favor, he was sure of it. Even though he was a Hufflepuff, patient and kind, he wasn't going to sit back and let Alfred get away from him so easily. The Hat had been in a tizzy over whether to put Ivan in Hufflepuff or Slytherin, after all, so he knew just as well as Alfred how to get what he wanted, no matter the cost.

* * *

 **spicygenou: Hello hello! How's everyone? Happy Easter by the way, for those who celebrate it! i hope you enjoyed this chapter, it started rather angsty, i'll admit, but we've got the fluff back. And look, Russia has feelings but is going about them in a socially inappropriate way, yay! Also, i have a shipping problem when it comes to America, so don't mind the Amebel, haha! anywho, leave a review if you love me! :D**


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